


Maybe in a Million Miles

by Stormkpr



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellamy/Miller bromance, Bellarke, F/M, M/M, Separation, canon-divergent, mackson - Freeform, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-01-27 01:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21383884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormkpr/pseuds/Stormkpr
Summary: What if the events of the last episode of Season 6 took a different turn? What if Clarke failed to overpower Russell, and Russell succeeded in taking Clarke and her crew far away from Sanctum? Bellamy, back on Sanctum, might be thinking about how he truly feels about Clarke. Miller would also be missing his love, Jackson. And what if they were separated for months or possibly even years, with no idea if they’d ever see each other again?Focus of the fic will be on Bellarke and Mackson, though most other characters from Season 6 will make appearances. Background Memori.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Comments: 56
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to WolfHeartGirl for beta testing. 
> 
> Title was inspired by the song "Be Together” by Major Lazer.

**Day 1**

“Is the ship back yet?” Miller asked. His head still throbbed from the toxin – ‘the blood of Sanctum’ - he’d been forced to ingest.

“No sign,” Bellamy answered, his voice steady and controlled. “It’s taking Clarke longer than I’d thought.”

The general pandemonium on Sanctum was a blessing in disguise for Bellamy and Miller right now. Anything was better than worrying about what was happening on the Eligius and wondering why the ship hadn’t returned yet.

As Miller slowly recovered his senses, Bellamy focused on getting Sanctum out of chaos and into some functioning order. Octavia and Gabriel had trenchantly observed the fact that people simply couldn’t cast off a lifetime’s worth of beliefs – not when doing so would render their own lives meaningless. Thus, in an attempt to keep Sanctum from falling further into bedlam, Bellamy created a plan. Murphy and Emori would continue their masquerade as Daniel and Kaylee Prime. The two “Primes” would establish order until a better plan, and better system of governance, could be created.

“How will we know when the ship gets back?” Miller asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “We can’t just keep looking up at the sky every two minutes.” Miller had, indeed, been doing just that ever since he had regained consciousness. 

“They don’t have any other equipment here to track that sort of thing. It’s not like starships landed here every day. Maybe Raven can – “ Bellamy stopped abruptly. Raven had been abducted by Russell too. 

Bellamy once again mentally ran through the names. Clarke, Madi, Raven, Jackson, and Gaia – taken by Russell, to the Eligius. Indra and Niylah had already been aboard the ship and presumably were still there. 

That left Octavia, Echo, Murphy, Emori, Miller, and Jordan here on Sanctum with Bellamy. Along with a couple hundred scared, confused, and angry citizens of Sanctum and Children of Gabriel. 

And as Murphy and Emori had witnessed, Abby had been killed by Russell to serve as a host for his wife. Bellamy winced at the thought of Abby’s death. Clarke would be crushed. True, he knew that Clarke could endure almost anything, but that wouldn’t keep this from being another heart-wrenching loss for her. He wished he could hug her, put his arms around her, reassure her….

And he needed to talk to her too! Things changed once he gave the life-giving CPR, and they had so much to discuss. A backlog of six years’ worth of things to go over, and all the events on Sanctum to process now too.

Bellamy forced himself to reign in his thoughts. He needed to focus on getting Sanctum out of chaos. Murphy and Emori would need more coaching on how to act like leaders. Miller was recovering from the toxin and Bellamy could tell that his old friend was one step away from a breakdown given that Jackson was among the abducted. On top of it all, Jordan still seemed disoriented and upset. 

The one saving grace, Bellamy knew, was the fact that he and his sister were back on civil terms. She said all the right things and he wanted to believe them. He would try to find the right mix of trusting her while not entirely letting his guard down.

But Clarke….what was taking her so long? When would she be back? How would he console her?

***

**Day 2**

Bellamy decided to shower. He drew the shower out for as long as he could, telling himself to slow down and that he should at least try to enjoy the warm water and the creamy soap. He hadn’t been able to sleep, but at least taking a shower forced him to go inside his cabin. Inside where he couldn’t spend half the day looking up at the sky and waiting for the ship. 

As he slowly lathered up, Bellamy told himself that the Eligius might be landing right now. Maybe someone – probably Miller – was looking up and blinking as he spotted the approaching vessel. He was probably howling with happiness. As soon as I’m toweled off and dressed, Bellamy told himself, Miller will come rushing to me with the good news. If I just wait and take my time, once I open that door, I’ll finally hear the news I’ve wanted to hear.

When he could wait no longer, Bellamy slowly dried himself off and reached for clean clothing. He brushed his teeth. He combed his hair. And finally, he exited his cabin.

Miller was, indeed, standing nearby with his head tilted towards the heavens.

“Anything?” Bellamy asked. His hopes, however, had already began to deflate. Surely Miller wouldn’t look so miserable if there were any sign of the ship.

Miller shook his head.

“Look,” Bellamy began, reaching a hand to touch Miller’s shoulder. “Clarke’s there with him. And Madi and Raven and Indra. They’ll figure something out. They always do. Jackson couldn’t be with a smarter or tougher team. They’re probably overpowering Russell right now.”

“Yeah,” Miller said, looking down.

“Well, I’d better get going. Governing Sanctum is easier said than done. Murphy needs help going through a stack of papers. And I gotta find a way to get him to just sit through a meeting.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Hey, if you get a chance, talk to Jordan today, okay?” Bellamy asked softly, stepping closer to Miller “He needs some help. His parents always liked you, so I think he’d listen to you. And…you know, it would take your mind off of Jackson.”

Miller nodded and then gave a quick pat on Bellamy’s back. “That’s a good idea. Thank you.”

***

**Day 3**

“Bell, come on,” Echo murmured. “Try to settle down and get some sleep.”

Another night of tossing and turning. It had been like this on the ring too, though back then Bellamy had had a bed to himself for the first three years. No matter what position he took, Bellamy could no more get comfortable than he could turn his mind off. What had happened to Clarke? Had Russell detected her ruse and shot her? Was her masquerade still working but something else was keeping them away? Madi was a mess thanks to Sheidheda, so maybe that was the problem. Raven knew the ship in and out, and Indra knew how to lead an army. Russell should have gone down by now. Unless something had happened to Clarke….

His thoughts continued on. Bellamy listened to Echo’s breathing and determined that she had fallen back asleep. Gently so as not to disturb her, he sat up, slipped his shoes on, and headed outside.

Their cabin boasted a tiny porch, and Bellamy eased himself down to sit upon the top step. Although he wasn’t in the mood to appreciate any pleasures right now, he had to admit that the fresh air felt good. It was cleaner than anything he’d breathed on the Ark or the ring – and the air on earth post-Praimfaya had always had a strange tang to it, at least to Bellamy’s nose. He forced himself to breath in and out. He had clean air and a place to stay and some of his family. 

But not Clarke.

Hearing footsteps, Bellamy tensed. The familiar outline of Nathan Miller soon appeared. As Miller got closer, Bellamy could see that he was holding a glass in each hand.

“Mind if I join you?” Miller asked.

“Why so formal? Just sit down,” Bellamy smiled.

Miller handed him a glass as he settled next to Bellamy. “It’s called port,” he explained. “It’s not bad.”

“So you can’t sleep either,” Bellamy observed, taking a sip.

“All those years in the bunker, I shared a bed with Jackson. The bed was half the size of the one inside my cabin back there - we barely fit. We had to spoon and we couldn’t really move once we got inside, but we made it work. I can’t fall asleep without him next to me. I feel lost in that huge bed.”

Bellamy debated what to say next. He had the opposite reaction to his bed now, feeling suffocated lying next to Echo. But even more urgently, he despised the thought that he had never, ever shared a bed with Clarke and he couldn’t imagine going to his grave without having had the chance to spoon against her. He felt a painful soreness and loss inside. And then there was the guilt over the fact that he was having these thoughts at all when he and Echo were still officially together.

Miller saw his grimace and asked, “What?”

Bellamy swallowed another sip. “The drink’s a bit sweeter than I thought it’d be.” He then went quiet.

Miller knew Bellamy better than that, so he tried again.

“I’ve been avoiding Octavia,” Miller began. “It’s weird because she’s not my leader anymore. I don’t know what she is.”

Bellamy nodded. “I’ve been avoiding her too.”

Miller turned his head towards Bellamy. “Is she the only person you’re avoiding?”

Bellamy took another swig. He’d hardly ever drank much alcohol during his lifetime other than the swill that Jasper used to make. He felt a not-unpleasant fullness tapping against the back of his head. “What do you mean?”

Miller glanced behind them at the door to Bellamy and Echo’s cabin. “How are things with Echo?” he asked, proving that alcohol does indeed lower inhibitions. 

Bellamy sighed. “All I can think of is Clarke. Okay?” He took a breath. “We went through so much right before she was taken. I almost lost her.” His voice cracked and he went quiet for a moment. Then he continued. “I knew right away when it was Josephine pretending to be her. I performed the CPR on her that saved her life. I’d never felt anything like that before.”

Miller quietly listened and nodded. 

“Bellamy also was quiet again and took another sip of the drink. He understood why some people got so attached to alcohol as he enjoyed the way it warmed his insides and made him feel pleasantly loose. He wondered how much of it Miller had enjoyed before taking a nighttime walk to Bellamy’s cabin.

Miller drained the rest of his port and began again, “I still can’t believe Abby’s dead.”

Bellamy shook his head and looked down. “Clarke must be crushed. And Jackson too.”

“Yeah. And a few days ago, Abby and Jackson had a falling out. She called him a war criminal. He left the room rather than snap back at her. Always the gentle peacemaker,” Miller said with admiration in his voice.

Bellamy was surprised at the revelation and wanted to ask for more details, but he glanced at Miller and saw tears in his eyes. 

“They were together for a long time in that lab over the past couple days,” Bellamy said reassuringly. “Maybe they made up before….before Abby was killed. And I’m sure Jackson knew that Abby didn’t mean it. From what I can tell, she hasn’t been the same since the drugs.”

“None of us have had it easy, that’s for sure.”

Bellamy looked up at the sky. Morning must be on its way, as the black of night was gradually giving away to a blue-black shade. Soon they would see hints of yellow poking through. 

But no sign of a starship.

**END OF CHAPTER**

_Comments are always adored. Chapter 2 coming soon!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Month 1**

The key, for Bellamy, was staying as busy as possible. Helping Murphy and Emori govern in the guise of the Primes, which was a full-time job in and of itself. Trying to understand the lay of the land in Sanctum and avoid the land’s dangers. Talking to Jordan, who was still disturbed but seemed to be doing better. Keeping communication lines with Gabriel open. And spending time with Octavia sometimes, even if they didn’t do much more than sit quietly and eat their lunch together.

And Bellamy had met with everyone on Sanctum who had any knowledge of engineering or communications or astronomy. None had any idea how to monitor outer space or get any information on where the Eligius was. Bellamy had Murphy and Emori direct them to spend their work hours on finding solutions, but nothing looked remotely promising so far. For the hundredth time, he wished Raven were here. She would have found a way to monitor the entire solar system by now. Heck, maybe she would’ve built a starship too.

Jordan and Gabriel were, however, working on a beacon. It was worth a try, though it was taking them longer than they’d hoped to get it up and running.

Murphy and Emori asked Bellamy and the others to move into the palace with them, instead of remaining in the cabins. Bellamy agreed. It was something to do, a way to kill a few hours. Anything to keep him from staring into space or out a window. And anything to keep from facing his situation with Echo. He knew what needed to be done, but he wasn’t ready to do it yet, and he wasn’t sure that she was ready to hear it yet.

Miller wanted to remain inside his cabin given that he’d shared it with Jackson for several days. He’d told Bellamy that for the first few days after Clarke and the others had been taken, he could still detect Jackson’s scent on his pillowcase. But eventually Miller moved into the palace to be closer to Bellamy and the others.

And Bellamy had one more thing to keep himself occupied. He remembered how Madi had told him that Clarke had “spoken” to him every day during the six year separation. Slowly, tentatively, he began keeping a written journal filled with messages to her. In deference to Echo, Bellamy kept the entries factual and impassive. Simple, unemotional recaps of each day’s events. It was something to do, though Bellamy wasn’t sure if it made him feel any better.

Any minute now, Bellamy kept telling himself, someone will come running. Someone will see the Eligius. Bellamy still perked up anytime he heard a person calling out, running or jogging, hoping that it was someone heralding the arrival of the ship. But it wasn’t.

***

**Month 2**

“It’s been 63 days now.”

“You think I don’t know?”

Bellamy and Miller sat on the balcony off of Miller’s room. They chose Miller’s room for their nighttime drinking sessions so as not to disturb Echo. In the absence of sleep, each man poured himself one drink, sat on the balcony, and propped his feet up. Bellamy had switched to whisky, preferring it over the port that Miller still enjoyed. Bellamy mused that once Miller found something he liked, he tended to remain loyal to it.

They were quiet for several more minutes. Bellamy spoke up again. “Planet Beta. I wonder if that’s really it,” he mused. 

Bellamy had uncovered Russell’s notes and read through them all. Russell mentioned Planet Beta several times. It was a 20 year journey from Sanctum, one way.

Twenty years.

Miller shuddered. “Any other clues as to Russell’s plans?”

It was a topic the two men had discussed dozens of times before, but that never stopped them from discussing it once again. Octavia had reminded Bellamy that there was a time anomaly out there too. Could the ship have gotten tangled up inside it? Other citizens of Sanctum had theories as to where Russell would go if given a ship, and they shared their theories with Bellamy and the others. Most still regarded the Primes as gods and were baffled as to why Russell would even need a starship. They would simply shrug and say things like “We can never fully understand the motives of the gods. Hallowed be the Primes.”

But Planet Beta seemed the most likely choice. It was closest, Russell and Simone had spoken about it with many people over the years, and Russell had written about it too.

“I miss the other Wonkru people,” Miller said, once they’d finished their nightly speculation on the ship’s whereabouts. “I mean, in addition to Jackson. I was real close to Gaia and Niylah and Indra too.” He didn’t need to add the fact that Octavia had been Wonkru and was here with them on Sanctum, but there remained an awkwardness between them. 

Bellamy nodded. “That’s gotta be hard. I wish I knew Gaia better.”

“I know you and the rest of the crew miss Raven a lot,” Miller continued. “All those years on the ring with her.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy said, taking a sip of his whisky. “Emori’s taking it hard. Well, we all are.” He added, “Echo too.”

“Hey, I never asked you,” Miller began, “when did you and Echo first get together? I mean, I know it was on the ring. I assume you weren’t together before then. Did you get together right after Praimfaya or later on?”

Bellamy appreciated the darkness of the night in addition to the alcohol. He didn’t have to maintain eye contact or try to mask his feelings. “Later on,” he answered. “After three years on the ring. We needed time to trust each other.” He rubbed his temples with one hand. “And I needed time to accept that Clarke was gone.”

Miller turned his head at Bellamy’s admission. Bellamy had been dodging the subject of Clarke during the past few weeks, and it was a surprise to hear her name again. 

And apparently Bellamy wanted the subject changed. He said, “So Murphy and Emori told us – when we were up on the ring – that you and Jackson got together right before Praimfaya, around when you were on Becca’s island.”

“Yeah,” Miller confirmed. 

“Were you – were you a couple right away or was it more of a friends with benefits thing that evolved?”

“Neither one of us is into casual sex,” Miller said straightforwardly. “We agreed to basically jump headfirst into a relationship. Despite,” he chuckled, “the possibility that the world was about to burn up in a few days.”

Bellamy shrugged. “You didn’t waste any time. That was smart.” He set his drink down on the side table and it made a firm clink. “At least you have one thing I don’t, Miller. Jackson knows how much you love him.”

Miller let that sink in and was quiet for a moment. “He does,” he finally said. “I’m so glad that he and I took a chance.”

“And look at me,” Bellamy said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I kept waiting. Never said anything to Clarke. Kept denying to myself how I felt.”

“It’s not like you had much time,” Miller said gently. “Once the bunker was opened up, it was just another daily fight for survival.”

Bellamy shook his head. “I could’ve made time – like you and Jackson did before Praimfaya. Once we were woken up on the Eligius, I should’ve faced my feelings and said something. But I was so overwhelmed with what had happened, with the realization that we’d skipped 125 years. Monty and Harper being gone, and us standing there with their son. And earth having been destroyed.”

“It was a lot to process.”

“But I had other chances. The CPR. We were – “ Bellamy broke off. His heart was too full. 

“Go on,” Miller said quietly, after a bit. 

“I feel horribly guilty. I haven’t broken up with Echo yet.”

“You know what you need to do,” Miller said bluntly. He may have had a demure manner, but his voice could sometimes sound like an axe. “So do it.”

Bellamy was silent. Octavia had said almost the same words to him yesterday. 

“I will,” Bellamy finally said. 

There was more silence. Miller finally spoke up, getting something off of his chest. “I never thanked you. For what you did to get the bunker opened up. If it weren’t for you, we’d still be there. And instead what did I do? Let you stay in the pits…” Miller’s voice trailed off. A wave of shame overtaking him, he was glad for the dark night. He kept his gaze forward, away from Bellamy.

“Hey, what did I say when we first got to Sanctum?” Bellamy began. “Forget it. It’s ancient history.”

Miller marveled at the warmth in Bellamy’s voice. How was the man so forgiving? He mumbled a thank you, and then the men sat in silence again for a while.

Bellamy downed the last sip of his whisky, Miller asked the question that they had asked many times before.

“Do you think we’ll ever see them again?”

“We have to,” Bellamy answered. “I’m not spending the rest of my life without seeing her again and telling her how I feel.”

**Month 3**

“You broke up with Echo when you don’t even know if you’ll ever see Clarke again?”

Murphy uttered the question to Bellamy once he’d heard the news.

Bellamy had finally had the conversation with Echo. He hadn’t told Miller or Murphy or anyone that he was planning to do it. But he had reached the realization that it needed to be done, and that he was no longer going to wait and hope for Echo to initiate their breakup.

The palace may have been spacious, but Spacekru was close and everyone knew the news right away. Bellamy had not made a show of moving his belongings into a different room, but he had indeed been spotted doing so.

“That’s not the point, Murphy,” Bellamy muttered. The two men were walking towards the meeting room. It was time to prepare Murphy and Emori for a town hall meeting later that week. Bellamy’s steps were rapid, forcing Murphy to keep pace.

“So what is the point? You just don’t love Echo? And you’re gonna spend the rest of your life hoping that Clarke returns? And you don’t care what this breakup might do to our little family?” Murphy asked.

Bellamy smiled with relief when they reached the meeting room. “I appreciate your new-found concern for team spirit, but we got work to do today,” Bellamy said, as he reached for a stack of papers and took a seat.

Emori entered the room a moment later; her beauty routine each morning took longer. Taking a quick glance at the door, ensuring that the three were alone, she reached for Murphy and kissed him.

“I’m so sick of having to hide our relationship,” Emori said, taking a seat next to Murphy. “Having to make sure no one sees us kiss.” 

The residents of Sanctum knew Daniel and Kaylee as brother and sister, and thus Murphy and Emori had to continue the charade. They needed constant vigilance. 

“Hey, we’re lucky – we found two rooms that are connected by a secret passageway,” Murphy said. “Don’t know who put that in there or why, but it’s there.” He glanced at the stack of papers in front of him and added, “Is this how it was for same-sex couples years ago? Having to sneak around and hide their relationship?”

Bellamy’s forehead creased as he asked, “Is that…_empathy_ coming from you, Murphy?”

Emori answered for her boyfriend. “No. He’s just stalling because the last thing he wants to do is prepare for this town hall.” She rolled her eyes as she spoke. She glanced at the folders in front of her and added, “And since we are clearly stalling, are we going to talk about the fact that you dumped Echo?”

Bellamy’s answer was clear and without humor. “No.”

It had not been easy. Bellamy had known for a while that Echo wasn’t the one for him and that their relationship had been limping along, but it had still been one of the most difficult things he had ever done. His consolation had been Echo’s reaction. She had seemed more relieved than anything else. There had been no tears, screams or harsh words, not that any of those things had ever been Echo’s style. There had been some stony silence, but that at least was nothing new between them.

Echo had not uttered Clarke’s name. She hadn’t needed to.

“Now let’s get to work,” Bellamy said.

“Sure. Anything to take your mind off of Clarke,” Murphy smirked.

“Murphy.” Emori intoned, shooting him a look.

Bellamy normally limited himself to one drink for his nighttime talks with Miller, but he promised himself two drinks tonight.

***  
Chapter Three coming soon - thank you for any and all feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

**Month 4**

It just hurt. Lying in bed alone, the sheets always feeling cold no matter the temperature inside the palace; Miller would never get used to that again.

Constantly wishing Jackson were here, the sense of loss pounding inside like an incessant drumbeat.

Feeling a physical ache each waking moment.

And really, honestly, never being happy. Having a vague sense that he’d never experience happiness again.

Not being able to sleep well. A few hours of slumber here or there, but slogging through most of his time in a groggy daze.

Having to go to another doctor when he hurt his wrist during training with Octavia. He hadn’t gone to another doctor in years. Jackson had treated each and every wound with a special gentleness. Miller kind of hated the Sanctum doctor though he knew that wasn’t fair.

Knowing he should feel grateful for the abundant food and sunshine on Sanctum, but still having almost no appetite. The food on Sanctum was the most flavorful and varied he’d ever had in his life, but it may as well have been chalk as far as Miller was concerned.

Reminding himself that he was lucky to have Bellamy. He was lucky that he and Emori were developing a friendship. Lucky that he and Octavia had reached a…tolerable place, and if they couldn’t talk much at least they could practice sparring together. Lucky that Jordan seemed to be more similar to the Jordan he’d first met, though understandably more cynical and hardened.

But not feeling lucky at all. Feeling low and shameful when he thought of how he’d trade every member of his crew for Jackson in a heartbeat, if he could. He’d sell their souls to the devil if it meant getting Jackson back.

The bunker had been a truly miserable, gloomy place whereas Sanctum was beautiful and tranquil. But each day in Sanctum, Miller felt nothing but heartache and loss; he’d been content, mostly, in the bunker since he knew back then that each day would end in the arms of the man he loved. And who loved him back wholeheartedly, unconditionally. He’d go back there, in an instant, if it meant being reunited with Jackson. He’d spend the rest of his existence in the bunker, ruled by Blodreina, never seeing natural light again, if he could spent it with Jackson.

But none of that speculation mattered and no entity was ever going to give Miller these choices. Instead there was just day after empty day. Trying to sleep. Glancing at the clock. Hoping Bellamy was up for a drink that night. Hoping Emori or someone else would give him an idea of how to make the endless day go by. And always, always glancing up at the sky, waiting for the Eligius.

***

**Month 5**

_The beacon is up and running but it hasn’t returned anything. I keep hoping though._

_Things are better with Octavia. We talk more. Some days I feel like she’s the same girl who first stepped out of that dropship, some days she’s a total stranger, and most days it feels somewhere in between. Today we had a great sparring session with Echo._

_Yeah, Echo. I’ve never been through a break-up before. Gina was killed, and she was the only other woman who I’d ever referred to as my girlfriend. But now I live in a palace with my crew, one of whom is my ex. Life is crazy. I remember when I used to work as a janitor on the Ark. Now I live on a gorgeous planet that I don’t appreciate – don’t even see, really – in a palace where I try to keep John Murphy from messing things up too much._

_Echo and I tolerate each other okay. We just don’t talk much, and today’s practice battle with Octavia was one of the first times we’ve interacted since we broke up. Everyone else has been doing a good job of not taking sides. Maybe we’ve all been through so much shit that this feels small. On the ring, we survived the months that Murphy and Emori were split._

_Did you ever go through something like this? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask. You loved Lexa and you cared about Finn, and both of these ended with such pain. There are no words. I don’t know exactly what your relationship with Niylah was or is like, but if she’s providing you with some comfort and making things easier for you, then I’m grateful for it._

_Miller’s helped me get through this too since he’d been through a breakup before. His breakup with Bryan had some things in common with my breakup with Echo. They just kind of realized that they weren’t good together, that their time had passed. But his was different because he didn’t know – yet -- that he had a real love out there. Maybe Echo and I would’ve broken up anyway, even if you didn’t exist._

_The way I feel about you – it’s unlike anything I’ve ever known. I’m still trying to make sense of this connection we have. I’ve had plenty of time to read books here, some of which contain epic love stories. Sometimes I think that you and me – our souls are made of the same stuff._

_Sanctum is so beautiful. But I’d trade all of it – the food, the views, the fresh air – if I could have you back. I’d spend the rest of my life on the ring eating algae if it meant being with you._

_We lost so much time. I don’t think that the universe owes us anything, but fuck – will we ever get a break? I find you after all those years and now I lose you again._

_How’s Madi doing? I worry all the time about Sheidheda. I hope Madi is okay; I want to get to know her better. She’s lucky to have you. But yeah, I know you’re saying right now that I have it backwards and you’re lucky to have her._

_Where are you, Clarke? I know you’re not dead. I feel it._

_This all would be so much easier if I just knew** when **you’re coming back. Next month? Next year? Five years from now? Ten? Not knowing is the hardest part._

***

**Month 6**

Bellamy and Miller continued to trade theories about what had befallen Clarke and the others. One day, in fact, Bellamy wrote them all out on large sheets of paper that he hung on his room’s walls as Miller watched. He separated them into two categories: okay and unthinkable.

On the “okay” side: they’re on their way to Planet Beta – or somewhere else that Russell wants to go to - and Clarke has a plan but it’s taking longer than anyone wanted; there’s a problem with the ship’s navigation systems or other non-critical systems but Clarke and Raven are working on it; the time anomaly has caused some sort of minor disruption but Clarke is working through it. Perhaps Clarke was still posing as Josephine while Russell was still in command, or perhaps Clarke and the others had overtaken Russell but were facing a new problem. These “okay” scenarios could be happening either way.

On the “unthinkable” side: Russell soon realized Clarke’s deception and killed her and maybe most of the others; the time anomaly has sent them far away with no way to get back; the ship lost life support or another critical system perhaps due to a fight or some other disruption; Clarke and the others were forced into cryo and the ship is heading for Planet Beta; something happened to Madi especially with Sheidheda being a factor – maybe Sheidheda was in charge on the ship now and had killed everyone who hadn’t fallen in line.

Miller did some quiet speculation of his own, as Bellamy rehashed each possibility. If the theory of Russell having realized Clarke’s deception and killed her was correct, then there was still the chance that Jackson would be alive. Most societies, Miller reminded himself, didn’t want to kill doctors because they were useful. But then Miller remembered that Russell had killed Abby. `But he had a reason for killing Abby, and Jackson is the last doctor now, so maybe he won’t kill him,’ Miller said to himself. Regardless, Miller didn’t share these thoughts with Bellamy. Any ending where Clarke was not alive was going to be brutal for Bellamy. He saw the way Bellamy looked any time he went through the “unthinkable” list.

Octavia and Bellamy had tracked down Gabriel and drilled him for any information he had on the time anomaly. He’d shared with them what he’d known shortly after Clarke had been taken, and he recounted it all again. Nothing had been missed, and he didn’t have anything useful on the anomaly. Gabriel and Jordan’s beacon was up but nothing had come of it.

“We need a starship,” Bellamy said to Miller. “So we can go after them.”

“Bellamy, we’ve been through this a hundred times,” Miller said quietly. “No one here has any idea where to start. The only people here who got any higher education were the Primes, and even they never tried to make one.” He snorted. “And they’re all gone now anyway, except for ‘Daniel’ and ‘Kaylee’.” He paused and then quipped, “The rest of the people here have been trained on cooking, cleaning, how to do tai chi, and wearing dark robes as they pretend to be guards.”

On that last point, Bellamy had put Miller to work on training and improving Sanctum’s guards. As he’d seen with Jade and the others, the guards had not been particularly well-trained, nor were they remotely formidable. And Miller needed something to do other than staring at the sky and pacing around miserably. Miller had taken to the new role, and Bellamy thought that his friend looked somewhat less wretched lately. It was a good fit for him, as Miller had no interest in playing any role in governing Sanctum.

Bellamy rubbed his temples. “Six months. Six months of sitting here waiting and not being able to do anything.”

Sensing that Bellamy was about to go down a hole, Miller spoke gently. “Hey. You’ve kept this colony afloat. It was chaos when Russell left. You’ve kept it running.” He touched a hand to Bellamy’s upper arm. “You’ve sat through boring meetings with the people. You found ways to keep them happy. You made sure every crucial system here keeps functioning.”

“Yeah but we still are continuing this pathetic masquerade. The Primes,” he muttered.

“It’s what they believe. I don’t know if they’re ever going to change.”

Bellamy nodded. He’d read a few books on the subject of democracy and – in theory at least - he wished Sanctum had it. But having never experienced it himself, he didn’t know how to bring it about.

Bellamy looked again at his list of theories. “Should I go through each one and rate how likely it is?” he asked. And before Miller could answer, Bellamy asked, “If Sheidheda is in charge now, where would he want to go? Where would he try to take them? I really wish Indra or Gaia were here to give us some insight.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Octavia and Echo had shared what they knew about Sheidheda but it was almost nothing. Queen Nia had not permitted his name to be mentioned, and Octavia had only heard Indra mention him once or twice.

“I keep thinking,” Bellamy continued, “that if Sheidheda were in charge, he’d bring the ship back here. He’s a commander. If he wants actual people to command, he’d have to come back here. So why hasn’t he?”

“I hope it means he’s not in charge then,” Miller murmured.

Bellamy’s thoughts spiraled. It was a theory he’d explored many times before but it always made him feel sick. “Maybe they found life on another planet. Maybe Sheidheda is taking them somewhere were there are more people to conquer and command.” He shook his head. “But Monty and Harper did all that work over the decades. Wouldn’t they have known if there was life on another planet?”

“Right,” Miller said. “Sheidheda’s not a goddamned scientist like Monty. He’s not going to know of any place with human life other than right here.” He took a breath. The thought of Jackson and the others on the Eligius as part of a forced army under Sheidheda truly made him want to vomit. “God, at this point, I’d chop off my right arm if it meant we could at least know what happened!”

***  
NEXT CHAPTER COMING SOON!


	4. Chapter 4

**One Year**

It happened exactly 357 days after the Eligius went away, which was the amount of time on Sanctum considered to be one year.

The man’s name was Antonio, and he was one of the guards. Miller was just wrapping up a training session, and the exhausted, sweaty guards were glad to be “off” for the rest of the day. Miller had to constantly remind himself that they weren’t Wonkru. Outwardly he displayed patience with them, but he often had to keep from rolling his eyes at their collective slowness and weakness.

“Thank you for the session, Sergeant Miller,” Antonio said as the others filed out of the room.

Miller did not hide his wincing at the title. A few months ago, Octavia had – with Bellamy and Miller’s blessing – taken over the leadership of the guard. She clearly missed Indra, but seemed to be taking on new life in this role. Octavia had designated Miller as her top Sergeant, and Miller had to take a breath each time he heard the appellation applied to himself. He hoped his father would be proud, and felt a glimmer of warmth every time he allowed himself to imagine that he was. He drew another breath and closed his eyes. If Jackson truly was dead, then Miller would have to live with the fact that he’d gotten the chance to say goodbye to neither his father nor his partner. Another ache chewed on his guts yet again.

“Are you alright?” Antonio asked, leaning downwards just a bit, as he was several inches taller than Miller.

“Yeah, fine. And hey – you did well. You’ve been progressing really well,” Miller said, forcing a smile. His words were true, and he remembered his father often used positive reinforcement both at home and with his soldiers.

“Thank you. I, uh, also wanted to ask you. Did you want to go for a walk with me sometime? Or have dinner tonight? I’m a pretty good cook,” Antonio admitted, shifting his weight.

Miller let a few seconds plod by, and then faced Antonio head on. “So, I will have to be straightforward with you,” he began, his voice steady. “Is this a date? If so, the answer is absolutely not. My man is on the Eligius and he’s coming back – I just don’t know when. But if this isn’t a date, then I am trying to get to know people better here and I wouldn’t mind having a drink someday.”

Miller’s words were true. Although his closest friends would remain Bellamy, Emori, and the others, at this point he needed distractions from his constant sadness and worry over Jackson. If it meant sitting in Blythe Anne’s tavern and talking to someone, he was fine with that. He would just need to be sure to not show favoritism to any of the guards.

Antonio smiled and swallowed. “I like how direct you are. So, uh - I’ll be equally direct. I **was** hoping for a date, but if that’s not possible, then I would be open to a friendship too.”

Miller slapped him on the arm, perhaps too forcefully. “How about let’s plan for a group of us to hit the tavern after tomorrow’s practice? Then we can all get to know each other.”

“Yeah,” Antonio said, a slight blush on his face. “Let’s do that.”

**One-and-a-Half Years**

_The pain changes with time. For the longest time, I was just numb. Now it’s more like the grief comes in waves – really strong, overwhelming waves – when I think that I might really never see you again, Clarke. The numbness was better, and I miss it._

_The anxiety about not knowing what’s happened to you - that hasn’t gone away. I would say it’s lessened, but it’s still a constant presence. Sometimes I sit down to eat something good or I finish a meaningful conversation with Octavia and I almost feel happy, but then I remember that my normal state is grief and worry, and they come to the forefront, pushing the moment of happiness away. If I were a room, the walls would be painted in sadness and anxiety, so they’re always there for me no matter what else is inside the room._

_I remind myself that this isn’t the first time I experienced this. Up on the ring, I alternated between hoping that you’d survived Praimfaya and thinking it wasn’t possible. You had the nightblood. But the planet was a wasteland. I kept telling myself that maybe you’d ridden out the initial wave on Becca’s island and then made it to the bunker. Which, funnily enough, is what you later told me your plan had been before you’d learned that the tower had collapsed._

_Thinking about that helps me remind myself that we often are wrong when we try to map out what happened. I have dozens of scenarios written out on my walls about what might’ve happened to you. The truth could be any of them or none of them or some combination. There probably are 100 endings in which you are okay - but something has kept you away from Sanctum for a year and a half. No one is better at surviving and leading and thinking and adapting then you are._

_I’m sorry that I started this entry hitting so hard on grief and anxiety. I have no idea what you are experiencing and how much pain you might be in. I am hoping that if Madi’s okay then you’re okay._

_I manage, most of the time. Life’s not too bad. Sanctum is still beautiful and I still can’t believe that I live in a place like this. I take some sort of satisfaction in running the place through Murphy and Emori. (Sometimes I think that most of Sanctum has figured out that it’s really me in charge, but I don’t care). Octavia and I are getting along kind of great actually. Miller and I still share a drink almost every night. Jordan is – well, he’s wonderful actually – and he has a girlfriend. I hope he doesn’t get his heart broken like he did over Delilah. It’s fun watching them together, and I can’t wait for you to see them together. He’s really sweet and loving with her, but she’s firm and strong. She’s not at all needy or clingy but she does seem to really appreciate him._

_Maybe that’s how we’ll be someday, when you come back._

_I love you, Clarke. I hope wherever you are that you know that somehow._

**One Year and Eight Months**

“You know the weirdest thing happened to me today. I realized that I **like** Octavia.”

Miller said the words to Bellamy during their nighttime drinking ritual. As always, they sat on Miller’s balcony, relaxing with their feet up, each man having poured himself his drink of choice. The darkness of the night embraced them.

“Blodreina I only feared and obeyed,” Miller continued. “But this person that Octavia has become now, I like.”

Bellamy nodded. “Me too. I take it there’s been no change – she’s still doing well leading the guard?”

“She’s perfect for the job. And you know I’d rather be the right-hand man of the person in charge,” Miller admitted. He took a sip of his port. “How are you holding up? I saw Echo and Tye sitting together at lunch today. Was it – was it weird for you?”

“Not too much,” Bellamy answered. “I’m happy for her. I haven’t been in love with her in so long that it doesn’t, you know, haunt or upset me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Miller nodded. “I don’t know how serious they are. I still find Echo hard to read, I gotta admit.”

Bellamy smiled. “Well she was trained as a spy so she’s supposed to be hard to read.”

“True that,” Miller said, returning the smile. “So how about you? Did you manage to avoid getting hit on today?”

Somehow during the past few weeks, the women of Sanctum had begun to approach Bellamy. First one woman, and then several days ago, a second woman. He had of course politely declined both of them.

“Made it through the day without anyone asking me out,” he answered wryly. “What about you? Has that guy tried anything?”

“Antonio? No, he’s been the same. I told him from the get-go friends only, and he’s been cool. Hasn’t tried anything.”

Bellamy took a quick glance at Miller. He’d seen Miller and Antonio interact a few times – once at the tavern and once during training – and he thought he’d detected a soft look on Miller’s face, a looseness in his body language. He couldn’t tell if Miller had to fight off an attraction to Antonio or if he just liked his company and that was that. He knew that Miller needed distractions from the sadness and emptiness, and there was no harm in a new friendship. The people of Sanctum each had an interesting background story and a full life, so why not get to know a few? Bellamy knew he should do the same.

Apparently bringing up Antonio had made Miller think of Jackson.

“I’m glad Jackson is there with Clarke,” Miller mused. “He always liked her. He always used to say ‘like mother, like daughter’, so maybe being around Clarke is helping him deal with losing Abby too.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy said, looking straight out into the darkness of the night. His brain, lately, had been drifting towards a ‘She is gone, accept it’ pathway. Miller’s apparently was on a different track tonight; he must be ruminating on one of the ‘they’re alive but can’t get back here’ scenarios. That was nothing new; the two men often were aligned but sometimes not. “It probably goes both ways too; Jackson provides Clarke a link back to Abby. Maybe they have time to talk like this. He can fill her in on the time with Abby that she missed in the bunker.”

“I hope so. And I’m glad Gaia, Niylah, and Indra are there with him,” Miller continued. “He was close to all of them. Especially Niylah.” Miller had expressed these sentiments many times before, but the two men were very good about each allowing the other to repeat himself as many times as he needed. “He wasn’t as close to Raven since he never spent that much time with her, but he thought very highly of her. And Madi, he’d like her a lot; he likes kids.” Miller sighed, “That’s a lot of women. Jackson has always liked women. In every way except sexually, of course.”

Bellamy shared a chuckle with Miller over that. “That’s true,” Bellamy said. “And I’m glad that Indra is with her daughter there. You and Octavia always say how close they are.”

“Yes. And Clarke with Madi – thank goodness for that. It would be so hard on them if they were separated.”

Again these were sentiments that both men had shared many times before, but there was a comfort in repeating them. They tried to find encouragement where they could.

Bellamy sipped more of the whisky. “They must be eating a lot of algae.”

“You did it for six years.”

“You get used to it.”

“Better than what we ate in the bunker. During that one year.”

Bellamy shot Miller a look. Miller made a goofy face and laughed, and Bellamy followed his laughter. Finding amusement over the dark year was macabre and maybe a bit obscene, but both men just needed to laugh now.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_And coming soon….Team Clarke!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_ **Hours after the Eligius set out** _

"What did that idiot Russell do?"

Raven stood on the Eligius's bridge, unsure whether she wanted to mutter the words or scream them.

Russell and the other Primes had just been floated, and Clarke ran to the bridge to meet up with Raven. Her cheeks were flushed and she was slightly out of breath.

"The Primes are gone," Clarke breathed. "Where the hell are we? Why was the ship shaking like that, and what did he do?"

Raven hit a few more buttons and looked at the screen. "Okay," she said, glancing now between the window and her computer. "It looks like Russell somehow steered us through a wormhole."

Clarke threw Raven a panicked look.

"Yes, a wormhole," Raven continued. "I just finished consulting the maps and doing another inventory of our supplies and engineering systems. It's going to take a long time to return to Sanctum."

"How long?" Clarke asked. Internally she still felt a bit numb, although she nearly winced as her mind replayed the image of Abby's face before Simone was floated.

Raven answered the question, as she hugged her arms tightly against her chest. She went on to say it was an estimate, and could be slightly longer or slightly shorter. She repeated the estimate to Clarke, watching Clarke's face go from flushed to pale.

"Can we just go back through the wormhole?" Clarke asked, her stomach lurching as she already suspected the answer to that question.

"Wormholes don't work that way," Raven replied. "And besides, it doesn't matter now. The entrance closed a few minutes ago while you were getting control of the ship."

"Could it open up again?" Clarke's eyes were wide.

"It might. And we could sit here for years and years waiting for it to open. But like I said, it doesn't matter. Entering a wormhole isn't like walking down a corridor. We go in and we might end up **100** years from Sanctum."

Clarke took a breath and absorbed the information. "I take it you've already set us on course back to Sanctum?"

Raven nodded.

"Okay. Let me check on Madi and then we can talk to the others."

Clarke made her way back to med bay, hurrying through the Eligius's corridors. As soon as she reached med bay, her eyes zoomed in on Madi who lay on the bed, looking absolutely drained. The others respectfully stood aside so Clarke could approach her.

"How are you?" Clarke asked the girl softly. She gently moved some of her hair out of the way to check the back of Madi's neck. She was impressed with Jackson's handiwork; the incision was sealed neatly.

"Tired," Madi said, her eyes flickering shut. She had enough energy to reach for the hand Clarke offered and touch it, but not squeeze it.

"You get some sleep then."

"Clarke," Indra began a moment later. "What happened while we were trapped in here?" Indra stood next to her daughter, knowing that the destruction of the flame must have felt like a kind of death for Gaia. Indra had no doubt that her daughter was strong, but that this would be a new kind of pain for the flamekeeper.

Clarke looked around the room. Indra, Gaia, Jackson, Niylah, and the handful of Skaikru members who Abby had woken up stood around looking at her. With the bridge secured, Raven had followed Clarke into med bay as well.

"The Primes are gone," Clarke said, surveying the room. "We have control of the ship again. But – Russell did some damage. Before Raven or I could stop him, he accidentally sent this ship down a wormhole."

"A wormhole?" Niylah asked.

Clarke looked at Raven and nodded. "The short answer," Raven began, "is that it's a tunnel in space that connects two….places. But it doesn't work like a regular tunnel. Once you enter a wormhole, you could exit almost **anywhere** in the universe." She paused. "We were actually lucky. We could've – say – traveled all the way back to earth during the span of the few minutes we were in there."

"It's also why things were so bumpy on the ship for those few minutes," Clarke added. "We're lucky we didn't take any damage."

"But - where did we travel?" Jackson asked, his eyes very wide and his voice higher than usual. "How far are we from Sanctum?"

Clarke exchanged a look with Raven. The expressions on their faces warned the others that the answer would not be good. After Clarke gave the estimate, she added, "If we're lucky, we might be able to get back there sooner. Or it could take even more time. We don't know for sure."

She paused to let the words sink in. She watched her people as they looked at each other and mirrored each other's expressions of shock and worry. Jackson and Niylah, as Clarke expected, looked the most distraught. Indra was inscrutable as always, and Clarke guessed that Gaia remained far more upset over the destruction of the flame.

"I assume we are already on our way back?" Indra asked. "**Can** we make it back?"

"We're fine from an engineering perspective," Raven said, her face impassive. "We can't go any faster than this, but we're fine."

"And from a food perspective, well, Monty's algae farm remains in good shape," Clarke said.

Raven nodded. "I learned a few things during my years on the ring about how to keep it going. I'll teach each of you."

"Shouldn't we just go back into cryo?" Gaia asked.

"Wait," Jackson began, looking at her. "I'm not sure I **want** to go into cryo. I mean… Nathan and the others are living their lives, waiting to see us. I think it would feel weird if they've experienced all that time passing, whereas we just go to sleep, wake up, and see them again as if no time has passed at all." Although it was the least of his concerns right now, Jackson still felt that his internal systems were off due to the 125 years he'd already spent in cryo.

Clarke nodded and took a step closer to Jackson. "I totally understand what you mean. I thought about it as I walked here from the bridge. I think it would be odd if the rest of our crew lives out the time and we just sleep it away." She paused, "And besides, we can't all go into cryo. We need people to be awake to make sure everything on the ship runs smoothly. I hate to say it, but we don't know what dangers we might face out here."

Clarke looked around the room; a few side conversations had started up among Skaikru. "If some of you," she began, in her commanding tone, "do want to go back into cryo, that's fine. I will remain awake though."

"Me too," Raven said, knowing that she was key to keeping the ship running. The ship was on autopilot now but it needed a real pilot.

Jackson nodded vehemently.

"Well," Clarke said, with a slight tilt of her head. "The rest of you can take as much time as you'd like to discuss it. Time…is one thing that we have a lot of."

* * *

_Six days later_

The Skaikru members who Abby had woken up decided to return to cryo. They felt little reason to remain awake, eating nothing but algae and waiting for each day to creep by. The prospect of going to sleep and hopefully waking up in the tranquil Sanctum was too good to pass up – and Clarke and Raven didn't need them to run the ship anyway.

Only Clarke, Raven, Madi, Jackson, Indra, Gaia, and Niylah had decided to stick it out for the journey back to Sanctum. Clarke had given Madi the option of cryo, but the girl had been adamant about remaining awake, at Clarke's side.

They easily established a rhythm and routine, and each member of the crew selected a stateroom to call their own. Raven, happy to have a project at hand, got to work on teaching the others the basics of running the ship and the algae farm. She wanted to ensure that she wasn't the only one who knew how to keep the algae alive or to keep the engines from breaking down.

That evening, after a full day being trained by Raven and practicing sparring with Indra, Clarke sat on her bed, sketching. There was actual paper on the Eligius! Everything from small, spiral-bound notebooks to large sheets that could be hung on the wall. Clarke would gladly use the walls themselves when the paper ran out, but she was happy to start with the paper. It felt delicious against her fingertips, though she always took the most delight from the finished product no matter how alluring the blank pages were.

A knock sounded on her door, and she called out, "Come in."

Jackson entered the room.

"Hi Jackson," Clarke said, putting her notebook to the side.

"Hi," he answered.

Jackson shifted his weight and looked to be biting his lip.

Clarke watched him and thought about her relationship with the doctor. She always liked him just fine and respected his skill, but they'd never had an easy rapport either. Clarke had been seven years old when Jackson's mother had died and he'd begun apprenticing under Abby. Jackson himself had been only 13 then. A small part of Clarke had perhaps viewed Jackson as potential competition for Abby's attention. It was a battle that Clarke always knew she'd win hands down, each and every time. And yet a vague fear that the motherless Jackson might try to latch on to Abby had always lurked around her subconscious. Added on top of that was the simple fact that Clarke had just never really jelled with Jackson.

Well, Abby was gone now. And Jackson was part of Clarke's very small crew, and would be for quite some time.

"I was wondering," Jackson began, "if you could use a math and science teacher for Madi. I mean, I know you know as much about those topics as I do. But having more than one teacher could perhaps prompt her brain in different ways."

As he spoke, Jackson's posture was stiff, and he'd looked down at the floor during part of it. His words were deferential and sounded as if they'd been rehearsed. Clarke realized that this was perhaps why she'd never connected with Jackson. He was too soft, too meek; people like that didn't tend to last in their brutal world. Except, apparently, for Jackson.

"Yes," Clarke said. "I think that's a great idea. I'm sure there are some gaps in my knowledge that you could help fill in."

"Great!" Jackson said eagerly.

"I'll let Madi know that she can start with you tomorrow."

"Thank you." Jackson took a tentative step closer. "May I see your drawing?" he asked.

"Um, not yet," Clarke said, tilting the notebook against her chest. "Later, when it's more finished, okay?"

"May I ask who or what you're drawing?"

Clarke let his question hang in the air for a few moments, before she decided there was no harm in answering. "Bellamy," she said straightforwardly. "I'm drawing Bellamy. I'll draw my mom again someday, but the pain is too fresh right now."

Jackson nodded. His eyes, Clarke noted, were soulful and honest; he was sincerely sad for her. She suddenly felt a pang of tenderness towards the doctor. Other than Raven, he was the only other conscious person on the ship who'd had the peculiar experience of growing up on the Ark. And he'd certainly spent more time with Abby than anyone else here.

"H-how are you doing? I wanted to ask that. I know you must be hurting," Jackson said.

"Just not ready to talk about losing her yet. But hey," she leaned forward. "Thank you for asking. I appreciate it. Someday I'll take you up on your offer to talk."

Clarke then easily slipped into the role she was more familiar with. "How are you, Jackson? I know how much you love Miller. It must feel like an eternity, the amount of time it'll take for us to get there."

Jackson's eyes darted towards the window before returning to Clarke. "It's hard," he admitted. "Being away from Nate. And I miss your mom. But I'll be okay. If you ever do want to talk, I'm around."

"Thank you."

* * *

_The next day_

"Can we share a room? I can't take this anymore."

Jackson made the request to Niylah, as he stood inside her stateroom the next morning.

Niylah looked around her quarters, still not quite absorbing it. So many years ago, when Niylah was a child, her family's trading post had done well and they kept a clean house, but never before had she so much space all to herself. The giant, bright, immaculate stateroom with its bold widows felt almost scarily enormous when contrasted with the dark, crowded bunker.

Well, the bunker had been crowded at first, anyway.

"I could sleep on the floor," Jackson continued. "Or I could drag my bed into here. It's just-"

"Yes," Niylah said. "I'd like to have a roommate again." She gestured for Jackson to sit down. In addition to the spacious bed, the room had two chairs, a table, a desk, shelf space, and an adjoining bathroom. "I still cannot believe that humans ever had this much room all to themselves."

"I can't get used to it," Jackson said, rubbing one hand with the other. "I walk from my room to the mess hall and I don't pass a single soul. And I don't sleep more than a few hours a night, all by myself in that bed."

Niylah rose and walked a few paces to the chair that Jackson had lowered himself onto. She squatted and pulled him into a hug.

"This is torture for you, being without him," she whispered. She pulled him tighter. "I know. I know how much you're hurting, and I'm here for you any time someone to talk to."

Jackson was quiet, just returning Niylah's embrace. "He doesn't know even know if I'm alive or dead," he finally whispered back. "That's the worst part. He doesn't know that I'm alive or when I'm coming back. And I miss him so much."

Niylah stroked his back. "Where there is life, there is hope. He's alive. You will see him again someday. Let's take a moment and be glad that you're both alive."

Jackson nodded, and slowly pulled out of the embrace. His eyes were wet, and he rubbed them. He was quiet again.

"Uh, about our sharing a room, just one thing," Niylah started up, with a slight smile. "You know that Clarke and I used to sleep together from time to time. I don't think she's going to want to go back to doing so, but if she does…." Niylah let her voice trail off.

Jackson forced a small smile of his own. "Yeah. I'll go back to my own room then."

"It won't happen though," she stated simply, seating herself back on the edge of the bed.

Jackson tilted his head, so Niylah continued. "Whatever was there between Clarke and I passed with Praimfaya. And besides," she paused for a few beats. "Clarke loves Bellamy."

Jackson was silent for a few moments and looked down at his hands. He knew he wasn't the only one suffering, and Niylah's words reminded him of that. "I guess I've always known," he said softly. "The time I spent with the two of them on Sanctum, I felt a…..spark between them. And Abby used to sometimes speculate about it."

The days inside the bunker had been long. Med bay was busy, but not as much as it had been on the Ark or on Arkadia. Also, pleasant distractions had been badly needed inside the bunker – thus, Jackson and Abby's conversations had sometimes delved into previously-unexplored areas such as Clarke's feelings for Bellamy.

Niylah nodded. "These years will be difficult for all of us. You miss Miller, Clarke misses Bellamy, and I'd do anything to be back with Blodreina."

Jackson silently berated himself for failing to console Niylah on that last point. He knew how much Niylah loved Blodreina. `_I pride myself on my empathy but I'm not even able to help anyone right now,_' he realized.

"On top of that, we lost Abby and Kane – yes, they were traitors to Blodreina, but I still cared about them despite their mistakes. And Gaia has seen the flame destroyed," Niylah continued. "Indra and Kane were close, and she has to accept his loss as well."

"Raven had something going with the pilot," Jackson added. "Shaw." He knew that both Raven and Indra displayed tough exteriors, but he reminded himself that didn't mean that they weren't in serious pain too.

Jackson forced himself to take a breath and added, "I'm such a mess right now over missing Nate that I feel like I can barely function."

"Our small crew needs to find some way to support each other or we won't make it through the long road back," Niylah concluded.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_**Author's Note**_: Just a reminder that the fic is canon-divergent from 6x12 onwards. So for example, in 6x13, Madi/Sheidheda woke up the rest of Wonkru - but that didn't happen here. With the Primes gone, the only people awake on the ship at the start of this chapter were Clarke, Jackson, Raven, Madi, Indra, Gaia, Niylah, and the handful of Skaikru who Abby woke up at the beginning of the season.


	6. Chapter 6

**One Year and Ten Months**

The floodgates had opened. After the first couple of women hit on Bellamy, more and more emboldened women approached him. There was even a rumor going around that the single women of Sanctum had a competition going. Some folks had even placed bets.

Regardless, Bellamy had rejected all of his suitors.

“There was another one today! Do I need to lock myself inside my room?” Bellamy asked, exasperated.

Miller glanced at the older man and saw that he didn’t feel the slightest bit bemused or flattered. He was straight-up annoyed.

“Please tell me they at least are continuing to go away once you tell them you’re not interested?” Miller asked.

“Yeah. They do. I just wish they’d stay the hell away in the first place!”

“Learned any good pick-up lines?” Miller asked, eyebrows raised.

Bellamy shook his head, not in the mood for teasing. “No. A lot of real bad ones though.”

Miller titled his head back. He still replayed, over and over, the time that Jackson had first hit on him. `I could keep you company,’ had been Jackson’s bold offer all those years ago. Before that, Miller had only hoped Jackson might be interested but hadn’t been sure enough to say anything.

Miller kept his mouth shut tonight though, knowing that he’d already told Bellamy the story a dozen times – and pick-up lines was the last topic Bellamy would want to rehash anyway.

“Talk to me about something else,” Bellamy said, reaching a hand to rub his head. “Anything to get my mind off of this. What did you do today?”

“I cooked again!” Miller said proudly. “Nothing fancy, just a stew. But I’m starting to see why it’s a hobby for people.” He took a breath. “Remember back on the Ark when we ‘ate’ nutrition cubes and went for weeks without any actual food? We’ve come a long way since then.”

Bellamy glanced at Miller. “This cooking that you did….was it at Antonio’s place?”

“It was,” Miller said. “Jordan was there with us the whole time. It was just three friends hanging out together. I’m never alone with Antonio,” he added, speaking rapidly.

Bellamy took a sip of his whisky. “Miller,” he finally said, letting his friend’s name feel like an entire sentence. “The fact that you feel you need a chaperone tells you something.”

“Oh yeah? Tells me what?”

The challenge in Miller’s voice was undeniable, and Bellamy was not about to back down. “Tells you that you have to stop ‘hanging out’ with this guy! Obviously.”

Miller set his port down on the side table. “You’re a fine one to give relationship advice – given that you were in a relationship with one woman while in love with another. How long did you let that go on before you did anything about it?”

Bellamy was silent before slowing rising from his chair. His back suddenly had a noticeable ache. “I’m just gonna go,” he muttered, not looking at Miller.

***

Octavia demanded that the two men resolve their issue the next day. She escorted Miller to the library where Bellamy was reading, and said, “Figure this out and don’t come out till you do. The rest of us don’t want to watch you two glare at each other anymore.”

With that, she closed the door.

Miller turned his head to look at the door. “Did she just lock us in here? I bet she locked us in here.”

“The window’s right there,” Bellamy gestured. He sat with a book on his lap, enjoying the bright reading light from the window. “One of us could go out that way and down the trellis.”

Miller forced a smile. “What are you reading?”

“The Odyssey.”

“You’re way smarter than me,” Miller said, taking a step closer and craning his head to look at the book’s cover. “I can’t make heads or tails over those old books and the way they’re written. Jackson and I would read them together in the bunker. He’d have to explain a lot to me. Wow, I just made myself sound like an idiot. I **am** an idiot. I’m sorry for what I said to you.”

Miller stopped himself, seeing as how he was rambling. More encouragingly, Bellamy’s posture wasn’t as stiff as it had been when Miller and Octavia had first entered the room. Bellamy placed the marker inside the book and closed it.

“I’m sorry if I was out of line,” Bellamy began. “I didn’t mean to overstep. And what you said about me was right. I waited too long to break it off with Echo, and I was in denial about how I felt for Clarke. As soon as we were off the ring and I learned that Clarke was alive, I should’ve ended it with Echo.”

Bellamy ran his fingers along the embossed cover of the book. Hindsight illuminated everything. It didn’t take any of the pain away though.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t fair of me,” Miller admitted. “You had no time. As soon as you got down from the ring there was the battle for Shallow Valley. Then cryo sleep. Then we came here and almost lost Clarke to Josephine. You didn’t have any time,” he repeated. “And besides, you’re so loyal. That’s also why it took you so long to end it with Echo.”

Bellamy nodded as Miller spoke. He couldn’t argue with any of that.

“And you’re right about my situation,” Miller continued. “I like Antonio’s company but I am attracted to him. I don’t know what to do. Tell the guy I can’t be friends with him anymore? Or keep on hanging out with him as long as we have a ‘chaperone’? I swear there is nothing going on between us. He hasn’t made a move and I haven’t either.”

“I really don’t know the answer. But look Miller, you just gotta realize that he is probably telling himself that someday you’ll give up hope on seeing Jackson again and you’ll go rushing into his arms. I don’t know how healthy that is. That’s all.”

“I told him that I’m waiting for Jackson till the day I die,” Miller said firmly, holding his hands open and in front of him. “My mind is made up on that point. He said he respects that.”

“I’m glad he respects it. Just….” Bellamy began, meeting Miller’s gaze, “…just keep in mind how this might play out. Someday Antonio’s probably going to ask you to be ‘friends with benefits’ until Jackson returns. And someday you’ll be lonely enough – or horny enough – to agree. And remember I spent plenty of time around you and Bryan – I’ve seen what you’re like with the men you’re with. It might start casual but you’re not going to be able to keep it that way; you get **involved**. Do you really want Jackson to return and you have to tell him that you have a boyfriend? Do you want to see the look on his face when you tell him that?”

Although it was a thought that had lurked distressingly in the recesses of Miller’s mind, hearing Bellamy say it made it feel all the more terrifying and ugly.

“No. God, no. He’d be devastated.” Miller swallowed. “I’d be devastated. I’ll stop hanging out with Antonio,” he resolved. “Chaperone or no.”

Bellamy nodded. He was glad he himself had gotten the need for casual sex out of his system when he was in his twenties. The next woman he made love to was going to be Clarke Griffin.

Both men were quiet for a few moments. Miller turned and glanced at the bookshelves. He picked a book at random and sat down on the sofa adjacent to Bellamy’s chair. He looked down at the book but didn’t open it.

“We’re both still basically miserable,” Miller concluded.

“Yeah,” Bellamy said, with a nod. “I keep waiting for the pain to go away. Still 100% miserable almost all of the time.”

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_I appreciate feedback! Oh, also this chapter is shorter than some others, so I will wait less than my typical 7 days before posting the next._


	7. Chapter 7

_Because the previous chapter was so short, I decided to wait far less longer than usual to post the next one!_

* * *

**Two weeks since Clarke gained control of the Eligius**

Clarke had been doing most of her drawing inside her room, but this day she sat in the mess hall after dinner, with one of the notebooks and a pen. The pen she held today wasn’t the best instrument, but she’d try any implement she could get her hands on. Inspiration had struck her, and the drawings were flowing.

After some time, Jackson entered the mess hall. They exchanged perfunctory greetings, and he then sat at the table near Clarke but not next to her.

“I thought I might find you here,” Jackson added, with a nervous smile.

Clarke looked up from her paper again. She hoped he wasn’t here to ask her to open up about her feelings on her mother’s death again. He’s got to realize, she thought to herself, that it’s still too soon. She then silently reminded herself to give him a chance. Maybe that wasn’t his purpose here at all – and besides, you couldn’t fault someone too much for caring.

“Would you, uh, teach me how to draw?” Jackson asked as he shifted his weight a bit. “I mean, someday. Not right now.”

Clarke tilted her head. “Never knew you for an artist, Jackson.”

“Never have been one,” he replied. He glanced upwards for a second. “When Nate and I first got together, he asked me if I had any hobbies. I had to admit to him the plain truth – I didn’t have a life outside of taking care of people.”

Clarke chuckled. “Hey, hopefully he was understanding. None of us have had much time to pursue hobbies.” She put the pen down. “Sure, I’ll teach you. It’s not like we don’t have the time. Learning how to run the ship and tutoring Madi still don’t come close to taking up the whole day.”

“Don’t forget all the combat training,” Jackson added, with another awkward smile. All the women on the ship practiced sparring; Jackson did so too, but he preferred to think of it as self-defense.

“Here, take this,” Clarke said, tearing out a few sheets from her notebook. “We can start now. First, I just want to see what you can do, so just give it a try so I can see where you’re at.”

He nodded and took the sheets.

“Did people do a lot of art in the bunker?” Clarke asked cautiously as Jackson looked down at the paper. She knew that the bunker was usually an off-limits topic; back when Jackson had first been freed from it, he’d refused to talk about it with Clarke. A fact which she had not been happy about at the time. But also she knew that time had passed, Blodreina was not here, and Jackson seemed to want to talk. Clarke now did too, at least a bit.

Jackson turned his head to glance out the window. Clarke noticed that he seemed to love looking out the windows, often seeming to be absorbed into it. The other bunker-survivors on her crew did a lot of window-gazing too.

“People did the usual type of stuff when they could get their hands on the materials,” Jackson answered, turning back towards Clarke. “Some people drew, some people played musical instruments, a lot of people sang. There were books, so people would sit in a circle reading. A lot of the grounders weren’t literate, so sometimes people would just sit in the mess hall and those who could read would read aloud to the group.” He added, “Some of them asked me to teach them to read and write, and I really liked doing that.”

Jackson then stopped and smiled wistfully. “Miller would write poetry for me.”

Clarke’s eyes grew wide and she leaned forward a bit. “Nathan Miller? Wrote poetry??”

“Really sentimental love poetry,” Jackson confirmed. He felt some warmth from the memories associated with the poems, but still mostly felt agony at the thought of Miller not knowing whether or not Jackson was alive. But part of him believed that talking about this was better than keeping it all inside.

“I memorized most of them,” Jackson continued, “but I wish I had them here. I put some inside my backpack when we left the bunker, along with a necklace and a book that had both belonged to my mom. But the backpack didn’t make it with me onto the Eligius. I mean, the first time when we fled the nukes that McCreary dropped. Not the second time when Russell took us here. I lost everything on earth except the clothes on my back.”

Clarke shook her head. “Sometimes I can’t believe all the times we’ve had to take what we can gather and run for it. I left—“ Clarke stopped herself. She was going to say that she left a piece of herself in Shallow Valley, but she didn’t want to go down that road right now. Instead, she said, “That must’ve been very hard. Losing the poems and your mom’s belongings.”

“Yeah,” Jackson began, his voice taking on a distinctly cautious tone now, as he avoided her gaze. “We both lost our mothers.”

Clarke looked at him. “Still not ready to talk about that,” she said flatly. Her voice softer now, she added, “That wound is just too fresh.”

They continued to draw together in silence for some more time. Jackson took another glance at Clarke’s drawing. It wasn’t the first time in the past two weeks that he’d seen the images spilling forth from Clarke.

Bellamy. Again.

“You do draw Bellamy a lot,” he observed, his voice even.

“He has an interesting jawline,” Clarke stated flatly, continuing to look directly down at her notebook.

Because she wasn’t looking at him, Clarke couldn’t see the incredulous look on Jackson’s face. He waited for a better answer and then asked, “Do you prefer him with or without the facial hair?”

The question was so ridiculous and unexpected that it had its desired impact. Clarke laughed. “Oh my god, shut up! Or we can forget about any future drawing lessons!” she cackled, partly exasperated but mostly amused.

***

The next day, Clarke thought about the drawing lesson with Jackson. Although she still had decided not to discuss her mother’s death, she had realized that verbal communication had been easier given that she and Jackson had something to do while they talked. The drawing provided them an activity, and made it easy to not look at each other’s faces if they didn’t want to, when painful topics came up. And she had felt a little better by the time their session was over.

And as Clarke walked from her room to the bridge one day, another idea popped into her head. This ship had Monty Green’s mark all over it – they wouldn’t have food to eat without his work. And she had encountered Monty, or at least her brain’s perception of him, in the mindspace during her struggles with Josephine. Thinking about Monty prompted Clarke to contemplate broader topics like life and leadership. She always wondered how her crew would mentally hold up during the long, long journey back to Sanctum. And then she began to feel that she had all the pieces she needed.

So slowly, over the weeks, she pulled the rest of her crew into “drawing lessons” where they would sit together and draw. Some joined out of boredom, some truly wanted to give drawing a try, and some joined only because they felt they should follow their leader’s idea even if it was unlike any other directives given to them by leaders in the past. The group morphed and evolved into what they eventually called “art class”, though often no one was conducting any sort of formal lesson. Instead, they sat in the mess hall a few times a week, working with whatever art supplies they could scrounge up. If someone was not feeling inspired at all, they might do something else like work on mending clothes. But their hands stayed busy, and no one had to feel stared at while they spoke.

Sometimes “art class” was conducted in mostly silence. But other times, they did talk, and talk a lot. In the past, Clarke had never felt close to Jackson but she appreciated now that he was often the one to get things moving as he seemed comfortable talking about his feelings. He might start by saying how he couldn’t sleep the night before, just thinking about what Miller was probably going through – and that might somehow get Gaia to talk about how losing the flame made her question everything or prompt Madi to say she felt ashamed that she hadn’t been able to take down Sheidheda sooner. Niylah might speak about missing Blodreina, and occasionally even Raven or Indra would bring something up.

“Each one of us,” Clarke murmured one day, “has lived a lifetime of pain.” She paused and looked down at her papers. She was drawing Bellamy again. Her hand seemed to just do it, every day, of its own accord. “As have our people on Sanctum.”

***

**Six months since Clarke gained control of the Eligius**

It was one of those nights where sleep just wouldn’t come. Clarke quietly left her stateroom and made her way to the bridge. She sat down, propping her feet up. Notebook and black marker in hand, she groggily began to sketch. Occasionally she looked out the window as well. Something about being on the bridge, surrounded by the darkness of space with its occasional bright stars, just lulled her. The ship’s engines hummed steadily away. Clarke knew that her body couldn’t really feel the movement of the Eligius, but sometimes she still had the sensation of being rocked on a boat, as she had felt during her trip to Becca’s island. That feeling also lulled her. She continued to sketch, only occasionally glancing out the windows at the darkness.

Clarke heard footsteps behind her and gave herself a few seconds to identify which of her crew they belonged to.

“I can’t decide if it’s alluring or just empty and endless,” Clarke murmured, not taking her gaze from the window.

“It’s all of those things,” Jackson replied.

Clarke had correctly identified his gait. She didn’t mind that Jackson was here. She surmised that he gravitated towards her because he missed Abby, and as long as he didn’t insist that she discuss the subject, she was fine with his presence.

“We were born in space but on an ark. Now we’re traveling through space,” she said. She yawned, due to fatigue instead of boredom. “And earth is destroyed. I tried so hard….” she let her voice trail off.

“You tried so hard. But that man was crazy, and there was nothing you could’ve done.” Jackson seated himself next to Clarke. “But yeah, it makes my head spin some days. I’ve spent most of my life either in space or under the ground.” He paused. “Wish I’d gotten more time on the ground instead of above or below it.”

“I loved Shallow Valley,” she murmured. She rubbed her eyes; they were slightly dewy. “I wish you and all the others could’ve spent time there.”

“I wonder why you don’t draw it more. Shallow Valley. Or space. But you mostly draw….“

Jackson broke off his sentence right as Clarke made a jerky movement to cover her notebook.

“What am I….?” Clarke began, suddenly snapping to attention. Her mind got in gear and she realized what she’d been drawing for the past few hours, as she hid the notebook against her chest. She felt a surge of embarrassment. “I can’t believe I… Wow, is this horrible and exploitative??!”

Jackson, whose brain was as tired and groggy as Clarke’s now, registered what he’d glimpsed on her page before she hid it. It had been yet another picture of Bellamy, but this time he was shirtless.

“Are – are you asking me seriously?” Jackson asked softly, as a resigned Clarke placed the notebook back against her lap. “Uh – you’re worried because he’s shirtless in the drawing, you mean?”

Clarke nodded. She couldn’t remember ever deciding to draw shirtless Bellamy. She knew she hadn’t been sleeping much. Did her mind just conjure this up? Did it coax the image forth when her defenses were down?

“Well,” Jackson continued, “I don’t think your intention was to cause any harm or…exploitation, right?”

Clarke closed her eyes. “What does the **intention** matter?” She turned her chair to look more closely at Jackson. “Jaha used to justify his actions that way. More than once I heard him say words to that exact effect, that as long as a leader’s intentions were good, then the actions were justifiable.”

“Oh, Clarke, I’m not sure that’s a good comparison.” He grasped for the right words. “You’re an artist. You-you were just admiring the form of the human body.”

From the way Jackson’s mouth remained open a few beats too long, Clarke knew that he found his own words suspect, as soon as they’d left his lips.

“Or maybe there’s more to it,” Jackson stated, tacitly admitting that Clarke’s rendering of Bellamy had not been solely from the standpoint of an artist admiring the human form.

“There probably is,” Clarke sighed. “But look, I’m not ready to talk about that during art class – or any time yet, okay? So hey….how are your drawings coming?”

Jackson decided to play along and allow Clarke to get away with changing the subject. He knew just getting Clarke to admit that there “probably” was more to it was a triumph.

“No better than what you saw last class,” he answered. “I wish we had more sewing supplies other than the basic stuff we use to mend clothes. I’m better at that sort of thing.” Jackson sighed and smiled. “And also - I haven’t drawn anyone shirtless yet.”

Clarke made a sour face.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_ **And needless to say, comments are still lovingly drooled upon.** _


	8. Chapter 8

**Two and a Half Years**

Bellamy approached the palace’s dinning room. A split second before he opened the door, somehow he knew it. His senses buzzed, the air felt different, and he intuited that something was afoot.

Seated around the table were just Bellamy’s original crew: Octavia, Murphy, Emori, Echo, and Jordan. With Miller joining a second later, Bellamy noticed that Jordan’s girlfriend and Echo’s boyfriend were absent, as were any guards, servers, or any of Sanctum’s “citizen advisors” (a step towards democracy they had implemented). Even more telling was the uncomfortable silence and the solemn looks on the others’ faces.

“Well, something’s up,” Bellamy stated, as he took his seat. Miller sat next to him, nervously glancing around the table.

“We think it’s time that we plan a memorial service for Clarke and the others,” Octavia said.

Bellamy’s chair screeched as he instinctively shoved away from the table.

“I’m tired of seeing you miserable, brother,” Octavia continued. “You too, Miller,” she added. “We need to say goodbye to them.”

Emori spoke up, her voice gentle. “It’s been two and a half years. The beacon hasn’t returned anything. We just think that if they were still alive – or if they had any way to get back here—“

“No,” Bellamy cut her off. “Absolutely not.”

“I agree with Bellamy,” Miller said, giving Octavia his best death stare. “No memorial.”

“Look,” Murphy began, “we think this would be good for you. A—“

“Murphy, float yourself,” Bellamy cut in. “How’d you feel if Emori were on that ship? Would you be planning a memorial?” After giving Murphy a second or two, Bellamy said, “Didn’t think so.”

Murphy had the sense to remain quiet.

Miller then spoke up, “Two and a half years isn’t that long. A blink of an eye compared to our time in the bunker,” he added, in Octavia’s direction. “Maybe the time anomaly did something to the ship. Maybe they went into a wormhole.”

“Well if it was the anomaly or a wormhole then they might be 100 years away from here. Also, we don’t even know if wormholes exist,” Octavia responded. She kept her voice firm and dispassionate.

Echo cleared her throat and spoke, “All our research pointed to Russell wanting to go to Planet Beta. It’s 20 years away. We have to accept that the ship is on its way there and our crew has probably either been killed or forced into cryo.”

“Then I’ll wait,” Bellamy said, looking directly at Echo and crossing his arms. “They’ll have to wake Clarke up when they arrive. She gets control of the ship then and brings it back here.”

“So….that’s 40 years from now that we’ll see them then?” Murphy muttered. “Well, 37 and a half. How old are you now, Bellamy? Thirty, thirty-one?”

Miller looked at Bellamy and mumbled, “We already told Murphy to float himself, can we say it again?”

“Guys, this isn’t easy for me,” Emori said, clearly anguished. “Raven was one of the best friends I ever had. I miss her every day.”

“And I have no words for what Indra meant to me,” Octavia said. “Niylah. And the rest of Wonkru. I loved them all.”

“I’m sure this isn’t easy for any of us,” Bellamy said, spreading his hands. “So let’s stop this crazy talk about a memorial. It’s only been two and a half years. There’s no need to rush. We can wait longer.”

Jordan spoke for the first time that evening. “When will it be enough time though? When will be long enough for you and Miller to move on with your lives? Miller, you turned down a perfectly good man, Antonio – someone who I think could help you a lot.”

“Yeah,” Miller replied, his voice like a whip. “I decided not to move on. I decided to wait.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Bellamy said, standing up. “I lost my appetite. I’ll see you all later.”

Miller wordlessly followed Bellamy out of the room.

When the door was closed, Jordan turned to the others. “That went about how I thought,” he said, his voice soft.

“Same,” Octavia said. “We try again later. In a month. We need to get them to stop staring up at the sky and to start facing reality.”

***

**Two and a Half Years on Board the Eligius**

The days for the crew of the Eligius continued in much the same way as they had begun. They trained at combat. They mastered ship functions. They ate algae, though it was so unappetizing that they only did so when the hunger pangs got painful enough. They vied for chances to tutor Madi in various subjects, until Madi pushed back and insisted that she knew enough to tutor the adults. (And given that Madi was now 14 or 15, by many grounder clans’ standards, she herself was a full-fledged adult). They read – often together – every book on the ship; fortunately both Shaw and Diyoza had had collections. They continued “art class”, several times each week. They also found more simple diversions such as cards and other games.

The days were long and monotonous, but peaceful. Clarke often shared with the group what her life in Shallow Valley was like, how it felt to live with years and years of peace after so much strife. Each person experienced it a bit differently, but generally it was both a luxury and a curse because of the inherent boredom. And always, either in the background or burning in the forefront, was the constant longing for their loved ones on Sanctum.

Niylah, Gaia, and Indra made it clear that life here – though at times boring to the point of stultification – was better than life inside the bunker. Jackson, of course, had preferred the bunker because Miller had been there, but if not for that then he would’ve completely agreed with the others.

Outer space was vast but felt empty; the crew did not encounter any problems or anomalies as the ship sailed on. Everyone recognized and acknowledged Clarke’s leadership, with Raven just occasionally questioning her. However, given the ship’s melodious journey to this point, there was not much to chafe about.

The crew experienced a paradox -- the ship itself sometimes felt as vast and empty as outer space. But at other times, it felt suffocating to be constantly surrounded by the same six people. Sometimes the crew deliberately avoided each other. Anyone was allowed to take a meal in their room or skip out of a training session; they’d usually just shrug and say “alone time.”

Raven had seen this before when she’d lived on the ring with Bellamy and the others. She admitted in “art class” one day that on the ring she would go from sometimes craving company to being utterly sick of seeing the same faces each day. “And yes, it is hard for me that now I’m stuck in space with six different people,” she had said. “Monty and Harper are dead, and the other four are back on Sanctum. I didn’t realize I’d spend huge chunks of my life in space with a handful of people. And celibate, I might add. Unwillingly so.”

Everyone chuckled or smiled at Raven’s comment; they were all celibate now, like it or not. The only two who could’ve been compatible were Clarke and Niylah, but they didn’t ever return to their previous relationship. Instead they settled back into a comfortable friendship.

Just as Raven drew parallels to her time on the ring, Clarke saw the parallels to her time in Shadow Valley. Madi was the one blessed constant between the two. In Shallow Valley, Clarke had missed and worried about her mother and Bellamy and the others. On the Eligius, Clarke felt the same – except she no longer had to worry about her mother now, just mourn her painfully. Shallow Valley was far more beautiful than the Eligius. Here, though, she had adult company which a small part of her would admit to having missed before.

Clarke did, she realized, spend more time thinking about Bellamy here than she had before. In Shallow Valley, she had recorded messages for him; here on the Eligius with its surplus of paper, she constantly wrote him letters and drew his image.

She wondered about their connection, why she always felt drawn to him like a magnet. Clarke actually spoke the words in art class one day. “Maybe I miss Bellamy because of his heart – he has such a big heart, and I liked the way it balanced me out.”

Later that day, before bed, Madi had said to her, “Several members of our crew also have big hearts. But you don’t feel for them the way you do for Bellamy. You don’t write them letters every day or draw them all the time.”

“Yeah,” Clarke replied quietly, looking down at her hands. “I know.”

Madi stood looking at Clarke, waiting. Finally Clarke spoke again. “I know I need Bellamy in my life. I look forward to when we return to Sanctum and I can have him in my life again. What else can I say?”

But Clarke knew there was a lot more that she could say. Echo’s name was always in the background when she thought of Bellamy. He had a girlfriend, and she couldn’t fault him for that. He had a lot of love to give and needed someone to give it to. For all she knew, he and Echo were married now. They might even have a child.

`When we return, I’ll be in his life in whatever role I can,’ she told herself. ‘As long as he’s with Echo, I can only ever be his friend. I will take that, since I can’t have more.’

Writing letters to Bellamy helped. Clarke had suggested, in art class, that each crew member write letters to those they lost. Either those who were gone due to death or those who waited for them on Sanctum. Not everyone said that they would do it, but slowly Clarke observed that the ship’s supply of paper was declining steadily.

Time certainly, Clarke felt, helped her deal with the loss of her mother. She knew she was lucky to have had a mother who loved her so deeply, even though they had spent much of Clarke’s life after the age of 17 separated. When Clarke spoke with Jackson, he reassured her that despite the dreariness and sometimes brutality of the bunker, despite Abby’s addiction, “she did okay. She had Kane. She had me. She healed a lot of people and it truly wasn’t always misery in the bunker.”

As for Jackson, he could do nothing but accept the fact that the man he called his soulmate didn’t know whether he was alive or dead. Jackson felt that he had it much better than Miller in that regard, and he knew how much the uncertainty was torturing Miller. The only comfort Jackson could take was in the fact that Sanctum was a decent place, better than anywhere else Miller had ever lived. At least Miller would not want for food, clothing, heat, or medical care. At least he had friends like Bellamy with him. Every now and then, Jackson wondered whether – or when – Miller would give up hope on the Eligius ever returning. That path then led to Jackson wondering if Miller would find another partner. Jackson couldn’t decide whether the thought was horrific or comforting. Was it worse to think of the person you loved alone and in mourning or being comforted and loved, but by someone else?

Jackson brought up the topic in art class one day, and he was asked what he would do if Miller had believed Jackson to be dead and thus had found another partner.

“I don’t know,” Jackson admitted. He was quiet for several moments. “I think….I think whatever I do, I won’t be angry. I’d be understanding. I’d take him back, if he wanted.”

Raven had crossed her arms over her chest. “Really? What if a handsome member of Skaikru had decided to stay awake and wanted to be your boyfriend? Would it just be acceptable for you to go with him?” The irony was not lost on Raven; her one-time boyfriend Finn had once believed he’d never see her again and slept with Clarke. That had been nearly a decade ago but thinking of Finn gave Raven a dull ache. He was an empty space in her life that, even after all this time, she sometimes reached to.

“It wouldn’t be okay for me to do that,” Jackson answered, “because the difference is that Miller doesn’t know if he’ll ever see me again.”

Gaia looked at Jackson. “We are speculating on something that will never come to pass. Miller is loyal. He is waiting for you. He is not with another.”

“I agree,” Clarke had said.

***

“We’re finally at the point where we can start counting down the weeks instead of months,” Clarke announced, with a smile on her face. “According to our best estimates, we should be right about four weeks from Sanctum.”

Clarke and her crew stood on the Eligius’s bridge. Raven had just finished taking a thorough account of ship systems and their star maps.

Upon hearing Clarke’s words, her team matched her smile with their own. They had known they were getting close, of course, but long ago Raven had asked that people stop asking for an estimate every single day. But now, after all this time in space, the end of their journey beckoned.

“Thank goodness,” Jackson breathed. He kept his gaze directed out the window, though they were a long way away from having visual contact with the moon.

“Remember,” Clarke said, surveying their faces. “We don’t know what’s happened on Sanctum since we’ve been gone, and there are plenty of unknowns. I know we talk about this a lot, and that without the Primes things could be bumpy there. But…I am guessing our crew is probably okay.”

Clarke had long ago shared her theory with her crew that since Murphy and Emori had been masquerading as Primes, Bellamy might have directed them to act as leaders at least for a while – while Bellamy ran the show from behind the stage. She fervently hoped that her theory was correct. She admired the man and his ability to lead so much that her heart pounded just a bit more insistently when she thought of it.

Raven pointed to a screen. “I’m putting a counter up here. So you can always see how many weeks and days away we are. But,” she held up a finger, “I’ve always said it’s just an estimate so don’t anyone bite my head off if it takes two days longer than it says here.”

“Is that your margin of error?” Madi asked. “Two days?”

Raven tilted her head, “Right now I’d give the margin of error as approximately 37 hours. Give or take,” she added with a slight smirk.

A couple members of the crew filtered out of the bridge. Jackson sat down and continued to look out the window.

Niylah turned to Indra. “I wonder how Octavia is now. Whether she’s feeling like part of the group. Other than Miller, no one else with her is Wonkru.” She then added, “I mean – **was** Wonkru.”

Indra met her gaze. “If Sanctum truly has been peaceful all this time, Octavia might be a totally different person than the one we were taken away from.”

Clarke walked to her room to have some quiet time so she could write her daily letter to Bellamy.

_I’m getting excited. But I need to temper that excitement. Life has been full of so many surprises, disappointments, and heartaches. A small part of me feels that the universe owes me something, but I know that simply isn’t true. What if I’m wrong about everything? For all I know, the people of Sanctum have blamed you for everything bad that’s befallen them and you’ve been in prison since I left. Or worse._

_But I just don’t believe that’s the case. My head keeps telling my heart to stop with the excitement, to keep a lid on it. My heart’s been winning lately though. Is it insane of me to think that you are truly alright, and that I will see you four weeks from today?_

**TO BE CONTINUED**

And a big thank you to everyone who has let me know that they're enjoying this!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_The penultimate chapter is here!_

* * *

**Two years, eleven months, and five days since Clarke and the others were taken away**

Bellamy was in the shower that morning. He reminded himself to stop taking it all for granted. Warm water at the touch of a switch, a fresh cake of soap, clean clothes, and soft towels. His life for the past three years had been lived in previously-unimaginable luxury, and he knew he usually didn't appreciate it much.

It didn't make up for their missing crew, but nothing would. Things could never replace people. He had told Clarke in one of his entries that taking a few moments to be grateful for what he did have was helping to save his sanity. He hoped so, anyway.

Bellamy had just turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, when he heard something. Loud, fast footsteps and the door to his room being thrust open - and then, seconds later, someone barging into his bathroom.

It was Miller, panting.

In only a split second, Bellamy heard the commotion, saw Miller's facial expression - which was between shock and delight - , and realized that only one thing could cause Miller to burst in like this. Miller got the words out half a second later, just as Bellamy's brain was piecing it together.

"The ship. It's here."

Bellamy lunged for the door, but then stopped.

"Clothes," Bellamy breathed.

"At least pants," Miller managed.

Bellamy had to force himself to remember where he kept his pants. He yanked open the drawer, grabbed the first pair, and forced them on over his dripping-wet body. He then sprinted barefoot after Miller as they ran from the palace.

Miller had been out patrolling that morning. Although a Sargent, he followed advice he'd heard his father once give: do everything you tell your subordinates to do. Never act like you're above them. And besides…it was another way to kill the time; his days still were long. So he patrolled regularly, just like any other member of the guard.

He saw the ship before he heard it. Tilting his head up and looking towards the sky had just become second nature to Miller. For about five seconds, he froze, simply not believing it. Was it a mirage? It would not be the first time he'd thought he'd seen the Eligius, blinked, and then it was gone. Today, however, was different.

The day was slightly cloudy, so at least Miller's eyes didn't have to compete with the glare from the sun. He kept looking and still saw a ship.

Miller's radio beeped, and a guard's voice came through, calmly stating, "Sargent Miller, it appears to be the ship!"

Miller at first ran in the direction of where the ship seemed to be landing, but a few seconds later, changed direction and ran for Bellamy.

He didn't think as he ran. Although Miller was in good physical shape, his heart pounded at a frightening pace and his mouth already was dry. By the time he'd gotten Bellamy, several others were joining them on a sprint to the open field where the Eligius was landing.

* * *

As the ragtag group made it to the field, Miller blinked a few times to try to focus, and a soft buzzing sound rattled around his head. His heart continued to pound at a fearsome pace. The Eligius appeared to be in its final descent. The ship set down slowly and methodically, with a firm thud.

"That looks like a Raven Reyes landing," Murphy observed.

Miller turned his head to see Murphy and Emori clutching each other, tears in Emori's eyes.

Miller turned in the other direction to see Octavia standing next to her brother. "You want me to get you a towel?" she mumbled at him. "And a shirt, and maybe some shoes and socks too?"

"No," Bellamy replied, not taking his gaze from the Eligius.

Jordan stepped towards Bellamy, "Okay, but can we at least make this hair presentable?" He began to use his fingers to get Bellamy's hair in order.

Miller darted between looking at the ship and looking at Bellamy's expression. Too many emotions competed for attention inside Miller's mind, but mostly excitement, joy, amazement, and just a hint of worry.

The Eligius's machinery whirred as the ramp slowly unfurled. This part proceeded at an agonizingly slow pace. Bellamy, Miller, Octavia, Murphy, Emori, Jordan and Echo all stood by watching, along with a couple dozen Sanctum citizens who stood respectfully back. The group fell silent as the ramp was lowered.

"Do you think they'll say 'we're back bitches'?" Murphy quipped.

"John!" Emori chastised. "Not the time!"

* * *

As the ship slowly entered Sanctum's atmosphere and continued to descend, Clarke stood near the entranceway, by the ramp. Jackson was on one side, Madi the other. She knew that Madi was just fine. Mostly Clarke was thrilled for the teenager; the fact that – if their hopes were accurate – Madi would be able to once again live in a natural, lush environment instead of the sterile starship that had been her home for nearly three years. Madi had been itching to get back to nature since the day Sheidheda had been removed, and Clarke could hardly contain her happiness for Madi.

Clarke glanced towards her other side and extended a hand to Jackson. He took it.

"Still feeling the same?" she asked him.

Jackson's face was a few shades paler than usual, but his eyes were lively. Clarke had looked into them so many times over the past three years and seen mostly sorrow, so this was a welcome change.

"Ninety percent excited, ten percent cautious," he answered. His voice, at least, was steady. "Barely been able to sleep for a few days now though."

Clarke nodded. As they had drawn closer to Sanctum during the past weeks, she had always warned her crew to be cautiously optimistic.

The ship began its final descent, almost on the ground now. Indra, Gaia, and Niylah soon joined Clarke by the entrance, Indra bearing a weapon. Clarke shared a wordless look with Indra. A weapon at the ready couldn't hurt. Clarke had a sidearm and hoped she'd have no reason to reach for it.

Raven's voice came over the intercom. "Down and clear," she announced.

"Barely felt the landing," Clarke answered back. She was taken aback for a second upon hearing her own voice. It wavered just a bit and was too high-pitched. She forced herself to take another breath. After nearly three years of steadiness, tranquility, and boredom, her internal systems wanted to jump around. Clarke also couldn't help but to think back to the day when she'd been the one standing on the ground and looking up at a ship. She'd thought Bellamy would be on it, but he hadn't been. She'd faced crushing disappointment and then fear. Both times Madi had been at her side.

She knew that the universe didn't owe her anything, but she fervently hoped that just this one time there would be no cruel reversal like last time._ Please let Bellamy be standing there waiting. I don't care if he's still with Echo; just let him be unharmed and happy to see me. I need him in my life, in whatever manner he's able to be._

Madi took another step closer to Clarke. "It will be alright," she said quietly.

Clarke looked at her and repeated the words she'd said to the teenager many times before. "I'm so happy you've been here by my side all these years."

"Lowering the ramp now," Raven called out over the intercom. "Then I'll be there with the rest of you in a minute."

Jackson let go of the hand Clarke had extended. "My palm is damp," he said with an apologetic smile.

"Doesn't bother me," Clarke responded.

The ramp finished its dramatic opening, and a measure of sunlight filtered in despite the cloudy day. Clarke walked down the ramp first, flanked by Jackson and Madi, and then Indra, Gaia, and Niylah.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_I'm sorry that this chapter is short. I hope you will enjoy the final chapter, which is coming soon._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Jackson had wondered and dreamed about this moment countless times. All he could do was force himself to breathe in and breathe out. He had taken two steps down the ramp behind Clarke when he saw him. Nathan Miller was a bit stockier now but otherwise looked the same as he had three years ago. He clearly had been doing exactly what Jackson was doing – straining to find his partner.

They locked eyes and ran towards each other. To Jackson and Miller, the rest of the world may as well have blinked out of existence. They squeezed each other tight.

Miller hadn’t thought he’d start crying, but he was immediately teary-eyed and he didn’t care if any members of the guard saw it; the concern wasn’t even on his radar. His hands trembled.

“Should we kiss now or just keep hugging?” Jackson finally asked after an indeterminate amount of time.

“I can’t kiss, I’m crying,” Miller answered.

Jackson knew he was supposed to ask about the others, about life on Sanctum, about a thousand things. But he wasn’t leaving the embrace. He had hoped for this moment for so long. At some point, somehow, the two ended up just outside Miller’s room at the palace though neither was sure how.

As Miller opened the door and they entered his room, Jackson was startled. A large, furry creature lay contentedly on the bed. The creature then jumped off and headed towards Miller.

“Is that….” Jackson stammered, “a – a dog?”

“Yep. He’s awesome, I can see now why people used to love having them. I had no idea what to name him,” Miller explained, “so I asked one of the Sanctum people and they told me to call him Rover.” Miller patted Rover with one hand, but he wasn’t breaking physical contact with Jackson until he absolutely had to. “He’s the only other creature who’s shared my bed all these years.”

“I wondered about that,” Jackson said, still trying to take it all in. He had dimly remembered the exquisite beauty of Sanctum, and he almost wished he could block out the distracting luxuriousness of the room and just focus on Miller. It was almost all too much. But he forced his brain into gear. “A few times. I wondered if you’d think I was never coming back, and find someone else. I-I wouldn’t have held it against you. You had no idea if I was alive or dead….” He let his voice trail off.

“I waited. There’s been no one else,” Miller confirmed.

He then pulled Jackson back into a hug, and Jackson murmured, “Thank you for waiting.”

“Are you hungry?” Miller asked. “You remember the food here is great. And I’ve learned to cook.” Rover continued to nuzzle Miller as he talked. “Rover’s also going to need a walk soon,” he admitted sheepishly. “Trust me, you’ll love him. Oh, and I have a stack of poems for you.”

Jackson slightly broke from the hug and cautiously bent to pet Rover. He’d seen a few dogs before, years ago, his first time on Sanctum. They still were a bit of a mystery to him. The dog’s fur wasn’t as soft as he’d expected, but it still felt nice. “I’m too excited to eat,” Jackson answered. “Let’s just sit here and hug some more. And you can read me those poems. Uh – until Rover needs his walk.”

“That works for me,” Miller said, reaching back to hug Jackson. Rover could wait just a bit; the dog was plenty pampered.

They continued to hug for several long moments. At one point, Jackson tilted his head up and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging on the wall. He sighed, “My hair is certainly thinner than it was three years ago.”

Miller reached a hand to stroke it. “Maybe. But your eyes are as beautiful as ever. And your mouth.” He adjusted their position and kissed Jackson again. “I think I’m dreaming. I can’t believe you’re here.”

“This has been my dream every day since we were separated.” Jackson wanted to say more but his throat closed. He squeezed Miller tightly.

***

Clarke stood still for a moment or two as she locked eyes with Bellamy.

For one quick second, her vision clouded over as it sometimes happened when she observed something intense or shocking. Clarke had experienced the sensation of time standing still a few times before, and she felt it again now. She willed her brain to regain its senses, and took a few steps closer to Bellamy.

“You’re dripping wet,” she said, dimly aware that Octavia and the others somehow knew to give them some space. “And shirtless. And barefoot.”

“I was in the shower when the ship landed,” Bellamy said. He met her gaze. Were his hands trembling slightly? Was he just chilled perhaps?

“Aren’t your feet cold?” Clarke asked, glancing downwards. She was trying to process what his facial expression meant and whether it aligned with hers. She did appreciate the chance to momentarily break off eye contact though since her heart kept lurching every time they locked eyes.

“I guess. Hey, is that Madi?” Bellamy asked, taking his eyes off of Clarke for an instant. “She’s grown so much! For a second I didn’t recognize her. Then, I mean, of course it had to be her. Who else would it be?”

Bellamy blinked a few times; Clarke glimpsed tears in his eyes. She knew her own eyes were wet too.

She wasn’t used to hearing Bellamy stumble over his words, or ramble. She also couldn’t take keep her gaze off of him for too long. “You gained weight,” she said, with a smile. In a life of deprivation, weight gain was a positive thing, meaning prosperity and good health.

“Yes. Uh, there’s a lot of food here.”

There was silence for a few seconds. Clarke noticed that her face felt warm. She decided to step towards Bellamy and hug him – which he seemed to eagerly accept. The hug felt powerful. Despite Bellamy being still damp from the shower, Clarke enjoyed the hug – he was just so big and welcoming. She shut her eyes and rested her head against him. Due to their proximity, she could sense that this moment was fairly intense for him too; she could tell his breathing was rapid and guessed that his heart rate was faster than usual.

_After all these years_, Clarke told herself, _I still am not 100% sure how he feels about me._

That realization forced Clarke to eventually step back, out of the hug, though the sensation was a bit like being taken doused with ice-cold water after a comforting nap. However, she knew she couldn’t neglect everyone else. Once she broke off the hug, everyone around them seemed to take it as their cue. Raven went up to Bellamy and hugged him. Clarke soon found herself embracing the others – Octavia, Murphy, Emori, Jordan, and Echo.

“This is my girlfriend Penny,” Jordan said, beaming, as he introduced Clarke to a young woman.

When Clarke had finished greeting Echo, she noticed a tall, serious man standing by Echo’s side. “My boyfriend, Tye,” Echo said, making the introduction.

As Clarke reached to shake Tye’s hand, Echo answered her questioning look. “Bellamy and I broke up years ago,” she explained.

Clarke was determined to take the news in stride, but she knew that it set her system racing just a bit. For a second or two, she felt light-headed and she had to demand that her brain concentrate.

“Where’s Miller?” Clarke asked, trying to stay on track.

“He and Jackson already took off,” Murphy smirked. A look from Emori kept Murphy from adding any colorful commentary.

“Can we sit down and meet?” Clarke asked. “I’d like to be updated on everything.”

“I second that,” Madi added.

Bellamy, who suddenly was standing right back next to Clarke again, suggested that they head back to the palace and catch up, over a meal. Clarke looked at him and nodded, “I’d like that.” She paused and added, with a twinkle in her eye, “Maybe you can grab a shirt, and even some shoes and socks, before then.”

Without another word, Clarke reached for Bellamy’s hand. He took it, and they walked together, to the palace.

***

The past three years on Sanctum had been quiet and peaceful. And although Bellamy had spent every day worried about Clarke, the pace of his life had been so lackadaisical that he was unused to having so many powerful emotions surging through his body at once. Right now the onslaught of emotions ranged from elation, relief, curiosity (what had happened on the Eligius?), astonishment (Clarke had held his hand as they walked!), impatience (he wanted desperately to speak with her alone), and a cautious optimism (had the look on her face meant what he hoped it had?).

And, of course, love. His heart pounded with love for her. He felt it physically, radiating out from his chest to every inch of his being.

The group filtered into the palace’s meeting room, seating themselves at the large round table. Clarke sat next to Bellamy. Madi, of course, was on Clarke’s other side.

Bellamy did his best to concentrate. He knew he’d been gazing lovingly at Clarke, and that he could not do that during the whole meeting. Food was brought in, and several of Clarke’s people expressed delight at eating something other than algae. Bellamy could relate to that given his years on the ring. Fleetingly, Bellamy was jealous of Miller – he and his love were already an established couple, and now were off together in private. He couldn’t fault Miller for blowing off this meeting though.

Clarke started by asking for a recap of the past three years on Sanctum. The group filled her in. Emori raved about Bellamy’s leadership, and the others joined in. Warmth filled Bellamy as he listened to their words; even Octavia was vocal in explaining how he had kept the peace here while respecting everyone’s rights and planting the seeds for democracy, something the Primes had not cared to do. Bellamy ensured that he, too, praised his team. All of them had done well. Even Murphy.

“We’re dying to hear with happened on the Eligius,” Bellamy said, once it was clear that Clarke was satisfied with their situation on Sanctum. As Clarke spoke, giving them the complete story, Bellamy sat on the edge of his seat and leaned forward.

“If we had gotten control over Russell a few minutes earlier, we could’ve avoided going through that wormhole,” Clarke said, shaking her head.

“Our lives are full of ‘if onlys’,” Emori said. “But at least you’re here now.”

“And at least that damn wormhole only took us three years away,” Raven added. “We’re lucky it wasn’t 300.”

Bellamy felt a cold pang inside his gut at that. He’d spent much of the past three years trying to be grateful for each and every thing he could think of. As painful as this separation was, he knew Raven’s words were right.

As Clarke shared a bit more, Bellamy realized once again that he was just gazing at her. He almost couldn’t believe his own eyes – she was finally home. ‘God, I hope this is not just a dream.’ But no, he reminded himself, it couldn’t be a dream. Dreams didn’t feel quite this real, or go on this long in this amount of detail.

“You okay, Bellamy?” Raven asked, with something between a smile and a smirk on her face.

He decided to just admit the truth. He shrugged and said, “Was just asking myself if I was dreaming. I’m so glad you’re back.”

He smiled at Raven, but his line of sight was inevitably drawn back to Clarke. She was looking right back at him and smiling.

“So, are we all good then?” Murphy asked, placing his hands on the table. He was never a fan of long meetings. “Should we find rooms for you guys?” He had noticed that several of Clarke’s people had discreetly yawned.

“Sorry,” Niylah said, with her trademark gentle smile. “With the schedule we’d been keeping, right now it’s the middle of the night on the Eligius. And we’re not used to eating all this food. I guess it’s making us sleepy.”

“I haven’t slept much the past few days,” Clarke admitted. “Too much anticipation.” She looked at her crew to gage their reactions. “I think we’ll take you up on your offer, Murphy.”

As most of the team began to rise from their seats, Bellamy and Clarke remained in their chairs.

Madi, however, had stood up almost as soon Clarke had finished talking. She touched Clarke’s shoulder. “I’m gonna get a room and sleep,” Madi said. “But after I nap, I want to explore the place. I haven’t been outside in ages.”

Clarke nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I just want to make sure I know where to find you.”

Emori was standing nearby and jumped in. “The palace isn’t that big, but we promise we’ll make sure you know how to find each other.”

Knowing that they were aligned, Clarke and Madi silently agreed – so Madi went off with the others. Clarke watched her leave the room.

Only Clarke and Bellamy remained inside the meeting room, once the door was closed. All the sounds of chatter and discussion and laughter as the group caught up with each other were suddenly gone. Bellamy’s ears picked up the usual sounds from the palace: birds chirping outside, the palace staff milling about outside, sometimes humming as they worked.

“It must be strange to have her out of your sight,” Bellamy said softly.

Clarke turned back towards him. “It is and it isn’t. The Eligius was huge – every now and then I’d get worried if I didn’t know exactly where she was.” She smiled. “All seven of us got along well but at times we all needed…some space.”

He returned her smile. “I can relate. The years I spent on the ring.”

She nodded. “Raven talked about it sometimes. Since she was in both places. She said some days everyone would feel suffocated, and the next day you’d walk around not able to even find anyone.”

As Bellamy listened to Clarke’s words, he silently made a decision, one that caused his mouth to feel dry and his breathing to again speed up.

“Can we speak in private?” he asked her quietly. He glanced around the meeting room. “People usually stay out of here, but it’s still not completely private.”

“Yes. I’d like that.”

“Is my room okay?”

“Yes.”

***

“I forgot how beautiful this place was,” Clarke murmured. She was looking out the window of Bellamy’s room. “All those flowers. Even the wheat fields have a certain beauty to them. I don’t think I’ve seen the color purple or the color pink in years. And the air is so fresh here.”

“I think I take it for granted,” Bellamy murmured. He stood next to her, also gazing out the window. His mouth was still dry.

Clarke suddenly stiffened and placed a hand against her stomach.

“Are you okay?” Bellamy asked, turning towards her.

“Yeah,” Clarke said, with an embarrassed smile. “My stomach is making loud noises. My digestive system is, uh, not used to processing anything other than algae.”

Bellamy returned her smile and tilted his head a bit. “We might’ve experienced something like that when we got down from the ring too.”

He then swallowed and brushed his hands along his thighs. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said. He knew his voice sounded ragged and passionate. He was sticking with the silent decision he’d made during the meeting. She had to know. Even if she wasn’t on the same page as he was, Bellamy had to tell her.

“Me too,” Clarke said.

“I wrote letters to you every day,” Bellamy admitted. He met her eyes straight on as he said the words. He observed that her face was slightly flushed, though a nagging voice in the back of his head taunted that it was only due to her being embarrassed over the noises her stomach made.

Clarke nodded and stepped just a bit closer to him. “I did the same. Wrote letters to you. And I, uh, drew you a lot. I mean, I draw everyone but you…you’re half my drawings.”

“I have feelings for you, Clarke.”

He said the words. They were out now, in the open. He waited. It was only a second or two, but it felt longer.

“Same. I have feelings for you too. Ones I wish I had acted on or expressed a lot sooner.”

Delicious relief washed over Bellamy, and he knew he was smiling like a teenager who just had his first date. And when Clarke reached for him and pulled him into a kiss, his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his ribcage and into her hands.

Either way, it was hers.

***

For a split second, Clarke silently mused what a strange feeling it was inside – to have wanted something for so long, to see so clearly that your feelings are returned, and then to finally get what you wanted. She didn’t have the words to describe what it was like to finally kiss Bellamy. A bit like coming home? A combination of exciting and thrilling but also satisfying and…gentle and sweet too? ‘Just right,’ Clarke decided. The best description she’d be able to come up with was ‘just right.’

After a long kiss, they were hugging again and Bellamy was whispering in her ear, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She squeezed him tightly. “I can’t believe this day is finally here.”

They remained in an embrace. Clarke wanted to resume kissing him, but she didn’t want to step out of the hug either. He was so warm, and being enveloped in his arms was the best sensation she’d ever felt.

**THE END**

_Just wanted to again thank my beta tester WolfHeartGirl, and thank everyone who left kudos or comments. Please be on the lookout for my new fic, “The Twelfth Level”, which I will post soon. It will be canon-divergent from early Season 4, and like this one will focus on Bellarke and Mackson. Praimfaya will be coming and our characters will need to find a different way to survive it._


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